


The Key to Byzantium

by MarcusRowland



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Adventure, F/F, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-21
Updated: 2007-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 40,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcusRowland/pseuds/MarcusRowland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a mysterious mass grave is found in California, all the evidence suggests Gou'ald activity...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crossover between Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Stargate SG-1. For Buffy it's a year or so post _Chosen_ (and a few weeks after the end of Angel Season 5), for Stargate SG-1 it's early Season 7, soon after the season premiere. Events from both series will be mentioned, and there are some spoilers for BtVS season 5. Characters from these series belong to their respective creators, production companies, etc., and are used without any intent to deprive them of income or otherwise infringe on copyright. This story may not be distributed on a profit-making basis. Please note - BtVS characters won't appear in the first few chapters.
> 
> The plot was indirectly suggested by two stories by Don Sample, _Harry Potter and the Key of Dagon_ and _Misunderstandings_, but is not directly based on either. Both stories are thoroughly recommended. I've offered Don the use of this plot, but he's kindly let me keep it.
> 
> I'm British, so's my spelling. Live with it.

**Prologue: California, 2004**

"Few miles further east," said the helicopter pilot, "and it'd be a problem for the Nevada police. Like to see how they'd handle this one on _CSI_. As it is we're stuck with it, unless the Air Force takes it off our hands."

"Can you circle the area before we land?" asked Colonel Jack O'Neill. "I'd like to get an idea of the terrain."

"Sure."

Ahead the rough road the police helicopter was following passed a burned-out service station, where at least a dozen California State Police cars and jeeps were parked. Jack grimaced as he noticed a satellite news van amongst them, a camera following the helicopter. There was no way this was going to be kept quiet.

"The pit's a few hundred yards out," said the pilot, banking the helicopter to the left of the road and circling as requested. "Ahead at about two o'clock, near the big tent, where the excavator and the crime lab wagon and the Air Force trucks are parked."

"I see it. Any idea how many bodies?"

"This morning's briefing said forty or so, give or take the odd arm and leg." As the helicopter circled Jack saw a dozen white-clad figures slowly excavating a pit about thirty feet square and eight feet deep.

"Anything new on how they got there?"

"Not that I've heard."

"Okay, take her down."

The helicopter continued circling and dropped towards a roughly marked landing area, with a flag to show wind direction. Jack was pleased to see that there was a low dune blocking the line of sight to the service station. With luck the TV news crew wouldn't be able to film him.

As soon as it had landed a young Air Force technical sergeant ran to the helicopter, stooped low to avoid the rotor blades, saluted, and said "Colonel O'Neill?"

Jack returned the salute, and said "Be awkward if I wasn't."

"I'm Sergeant Cooper, sir. Lieutenant Henderson's over at the forensics tent."

"Okay." He climbed out and followed him, saying "You here when they found the bodies?"

"Yes sir."

"Okay. Want to tell me what happened?"

"Sir, Lieutenant Henderson..."

"Can wait. Let me have it in your own words."

"Sir. We were sent from Vandenberg to retrieve a target drone that went off-course and crashed out here. Telemetry said it went in hard, so we had digging gear. While we were getting it out Corporal Ryan came across the remains of an arm..." For a moment he looked pale.

"Just an arm?"

"It looked like it had been torn off, what was left of it."

"So you called it in?"

"We radioed the base, they called the police."

"What happened then?"

"When the first State Police helicopter arrived they noticed that the ground looked disturbed a couple of hundred feet from the crash site. Wasn't something you could see from ground level."

"Reminds me, why didn't you fly out yourselves?"

"The digging equipment's too heavy for a helicopter, and we knew the crash position from the onboard GPS so we didn't need to make an aerial search."

"Okay, so what happened when the police arrived?"

"We were already here with digging equipment, so after they questioned us we were asked to help."

"Without orders?"

"The Lieutenant called the base, they told us to co-operate."

"And you found..?"

"A pit full of bodies in chain mail."

"Chain mail?"

"Like you see in the Robin Hood films. Chain mail, helmets, metal gloves, like Robin Hood or those re-enactment guys."

"Anything else?"

"They had swords, bows, axes and shields."

"Buried with them?"

"Yes sir. Kinda neatly arranged, someone must have laid them out. Respectful, if you see what I mean."

"Okay. Let's go see your Lieutenant." Cooper led Jack towards a large tent, big enough to accommodate a small mess hall or a wedding reception. It was full of stretchers, each holding a desiccated-looking corpse in chain mail.

Henderson was a tall blond in his late thirties, wearing a sweat-soaked tunic with campaign ribbons from Bosnia and Iraq. Jack identified his insignia as Air Force Intelligence. He was talking to a white-coated civilian, but broke off the conversation and saluted as soon as Jack entered the tent.

"Easy, Lieutenant," said Jack. "You want to take me some place quiet and explain why I'm here?"

"Follow me, Colonel." He led the way to a smaller tent with camouflage patterns, opened a foot-locker, and pulled out some cans. "You want a beer?"

"Maybe later. What's this about? What the hell are you doing calling in a Foothold? Come to that, how do you even know what a Foothold _is?"_

"Um.. To be honest, I think I may have jumped the gun, but I was told that it was better to be safe than sorry."

"Explain, Lieutenant."

"In oh-two I was attached to Homeland Security in Las Vegas. We got briefed on a lot of weird stuff, indicators of terrorist activity. One of them was pretty much what we found. An organised body of armed men wearing chain mail with tattoos on their foreheads. SOP for that is to call in a Foothold, whatever that means."

_"What_ tattoos? Those guys were mummified corpses. Couldn't see anything on their heads."

"According to the crime scene experts, every one of those bodies had a tattoo. They're faded now, but show up pretty well with UV light."

"How did they find them so fast?"

"I remembered the instructions and asked them to look."

"Lieutenant, you didn't jump the gun." He pulled out his satellite phone, checked the signal strength, and speed-dialled the SGC. "This is Colonel O'Neill. I'm calling this in as a possible, repeat possible Foothold, no signs of current hostile activity but evidence that something went down here."


	2. I

"They're definitely not Jaffa," Doctor Janet Frasier said two days later in the briefing room at Stargate Command. "No pouch, no evidence of larval Goa'uld. And none of them ever carried Goa'uld, there's no naquadah in the remains. The tattoos are normal tattoo inks, not Goa'uld embossed metal. As far as we can determine, given the time since death, they're normal humans."

"Could they be brainwashed, like the followers of Seth?" asked Jack. "The drug he used wouldn't show up, would it? How long is it since they died anyway?"

"The state of mummification, the humidity and pH of the soil and indicators such as calcium leeching suggest they've been there two to three years."

"Is that the best that they can do?" asked Doctor Daniel Jackson.

"There's evidence for late May 2001," said Major Samantha Carter, checking her notes. "That's when the service station was burned out. The highway patrol spotted it while they were looking for a stolen camper. They would have assumed that it was lightning or accidental, but there were signs of recent vandalism. When they took a closer look they found several arrow-heads in the ruins. In the end they decided that someone had been playing cowboys and Indians with real fire arrows. Since the station had been abandoned since ninety-eight they didn't take any further action."

"Arrow heads, Major?" asked General Hammond. "Flint or steel, or something exotic like Trinium?"

"Steel hunting arrows, a type sold by most sporting goods stores. The police found identical arrows amongst the weapons buried with the bodies."

"What killed them?" asked Jack.

"Blunt force trauma in nearly all cases," said Janet, "except for a few with deep stabbing and slashing wounds, a couple of decapitations, and some limb amputations which I'd have to say were simply torn off, not cut."

"When you say blunt force trauma....?"

"The kind of injuries you'd get if someone hit you with a sledge hammer or a large club. Massive damage to ribs and spine, skulls caved in, and so forth."

"Through chain mail?" asked Jack.

"The mail is deformed and torn where they were hit."

"It looked well-made," said Jack. "Small densely-packed steel links, not lightweight movie costumes. Anyway, are we looking for someone with a club? Fred Flintstone on the list of suspects?"

"That's what I thought at first, but the shape and size of the weapon seemed to vary. Sometimes a single round impact point, sometimes a flat shape a couple of inches wide, sometimes several puncture wounds an inch or so apart."

"Were all the injuries caused by hand blows?" asked Teal'c. "Fists for the round mark, a flattened hand for the flat shape, fingers for the puncture wounds?"

"It could be," said Janet. "No human could do it, not even with the armbands Anise gave you, but a Goa'uld might possibly have technology to enhance his strength to that extent. Other than that we haven't seen many creatures that strong. About all I can think of is replicator androids."

"That's a nasty thought," said Jack.

"Relax," said Sam, "Replicators reproduce exponentially, they'd have already eaten half the world if one was loose in California three years ago. I doubt we'd have missed that."

"I shall consider myself reassured," said Teal'c.

"Very well," said Hammond. "What leads do we have? Any ideas where they came from?"

"Fingerprints are negative so far," said Janet, "the bodies are well-preserved, good enough to get prints from a few of them, but so far nothing that matches our records. We're trying them with Scotland Yard, Interpol, and other international agencies. DNA shows most of them as Caucasian or Latin ancestry. The dental work apparently suggests a European origin, but the forensics haven't pinned it down beyond that."

Jack said "All of their clothing, apart from the armour, came from Wal-Mart and other US chain stores. No documents, no credit cards, most of them had a few dollars in cash, all the money at least three years old, but that was it for personal possessions."

"What other clothing?" asked Daniel.

"You ever tried wearing armour without something on underneath?"

"Good point."

"Anyway, I'd say that the bodies were sanitized before they were buried, any indication of origin removed."

"Do we even know where they came from, Colonel?" asked Hammond.

"The road they were on leads from nowhere to nowhere," said Jack, "it doesn't go anywhere that isn't served better by other routes. That's why the service station went out of business. It's why the police can't give us an exact date for the fire, it isn't patrolled regularly."

"What about the camper Sam mentioned?" asked Daniel. "Where did that come from?"

"Sunnydale, California," said Sam. "Someone reported seeing it turn onto the road."

"Was it found?"

Sam checked her notes then said "No, it was never recovered."

"I'll have the search widened," said Hammond. "Maybe it's still out there somewhere."

"Sunnydale?" asked Jack. "Anywhere near Sunnyvale? The Navy intel base?"

"It was a small city on the other side of Los Angeles," said Hammond, showing the location with a laser pointer. "About seventy miles from the burial whole town collapsed into a cave system last year. All that was left was a crater full of rubble, most of it underwater. I think you were off-world when it happened, but I would have thought it would have been in your news briefings when you returned, Colonel."

"Who has time to read that stuff?" asked Jack.

"Were there many casualties?" asked Sam.

"A few, mostly looters. There was apparently some warning, the residents evacuated."

"And we didn't investigate this?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Why would it be our business, Colonel? Everyone seems to agree that it was a natural disaster, like the Los Angeles meteor storm a few weeks earlier. I know someone's out to get us, but we don't want to be too paranoid."

"Okaaay. So we've got a bunch of wanna-be Jaffa corpses, the only trail we can find leads to Sunnydale, and the entire freaking town vanishes a couple of years later. And we're dismissing it as a coincidence?"

"And your proposal, Colonel?"

"First of all make sure that there's a link between the grave and Sunnydale. If there is, find out as much as we can about Sunnydale, interview any survivors we can track down, and see if anything weird pops up."

"Very well, I'll have it seen to."

"But..."

"Colonel, you don't have to do everything yourself. If anything interesting emerges you'll be told. We really don't need you on the ground in California at the moment."

"I guess."

"Very well. Teal'c, did the tattoos look familiar?"

"General, I regret that they did not. While there are some similarities to Goa'uld designs, they are like none I know."

"Doctor Jackson?"

"Nothing yet, but there are still a lot of references to check."

"Very well. I agree with you, this one has an odd feel to it. It may have nothing to do with us but you aren't scheduled for another mission right now, so you might as well look into it. Colonel, I'll start making calls, I'd suggest you try your own contacts. Doctor Frasier, keep in touch with the forensic scientists. Major Carter, I know that you have your research to attend to, but see if there was anything odd about Sunnydale. Doctor Jackson, keep on those tattoos. Teal'c, find out if the Jaffa or the Tokra know anything. Let's get to work."


	3. II

"I think I may have a match for the tattoos," Daniel said three days later, showing Jack photographs of an old illuminated book in a language Jack thought might be Greek. "They're associated with an obscure religious sect called the Knights of Byzantium. Founded some time in the eighth or ninth century, maybe earlier, mentioned a few times in documents up to the fifteenth century, when Constantinople fell to a Turkish invasion. I would have found them earlier, but I was looking for an Egyptian or off-world connection and there isn't one."

"What were they?" asked Jack. "Goa'uld worshipers?"

"I'd have to say no. There isn't much information about them, but there are several references to them fighting an ancient evil. The texts are really obscure, but if I'm reading this right they're supposed to have been formed to fight a god."

_"Fight?"_

"That's right. They were a warrior order, an offshoot of what we'd now call the Greek Orthodox church."

"Okay, so you're saying they were... what, the good guys?"

"It's beginning to look that way. This passage here is particularly interesting..."

"I really don't speak Byzantine, Daniel. Or read it."

"It's just a variant form of archaic Greek, Jack. Okay, paraphrasing considerably, what it seems to be saying is that the order was formed to ensure that a god couldn't open a gateway or portal."

"The Stargate?"

"It could be, except that I can find no evidence for them going anywhere near Egypt. They describe the results of opening it as 'the end of all things', which I guess would follow from a Goa'uld invasion. The next paragraph mentions something called 'The key', and says that it must be destroyed. There's a whole litany for it: ' The key is the link. The link must be severed. Such is the will of God.' It's repeated several times in this text."

"The key... Something like a DHD? Maybe something more portable?"

"It's suggestive, isn't it?"

"Anything else?"

"There's a reference to another order that guards the key, implying that they are... well, not exactly rivals, more that the knights were their backup if they ever failed."

"So if the knights were the backup, what were the other guys?"

"My guess would be astrologers," said Daniel. "So far I've seen them referred to as priests, wizards, and wise men. It seems to be saying that they were to guard the key, keep it from the gods, and send it to safety if the gods ever discovered it. Wait a minute, no, if the god - singular, not plural - ever discovered it."

"So one group to keep the thing safe, the other to destroy it if anyone unauthorized gets hold of it. Defence in depth. But why not destroy it first?"

"They were keeping it for someone?" suggested Sam, who had come into Daniel's office while they were talking.

"For more than a thousand years?" asked Jack. "Who'd want something kept that long? Okay, I know, only one answer, there has to be a Goa'uld behind it. Someone like Seth. He must have founded half a dozen religions while he was exiled on Earth."

"That makes a lot of sense. Seth was trapped here when the Stargate was buried," said Daniel. "If he did have some sort of alternative to a DHD, he wouldn't have wanted to carry it around all the time. He must have set up the Knights or some sort of predecessor organisation to keep the Key safe, whatever it was?"

"I thought you said the tattoos didn't match any Goa'uld pattern," said Sam.

"I did, but I've been thinking. Suppose that Seth lost contact with them for some reason, but the Knights kept on guarding the Key and following old traditions. Over generations the tattoos they used might evolve."

"It's reaching a little, isn't it?"

"Over the years that we know the order existed Byzantium had incredibly destructive riots, plagues, several wars, and eventually a Turkish invasion that destroyed most records. The whole order could have been wiped out and replaced. Maybe they simply forgot where they were coming from, just remembered the mission."

"And they're still out there," said Sam, "if they weren't all killed in California."

"Whoever buried them showed a lot of respect," said Jack. "They also went to a lot of trouble to clean up the area, stop anyone from knowing what went down. To me that spells their friends, not their enemies. Maybe more members of their order."

"Which leaves me wondering who they were fighting, or what, and who won," said Daniel.

"How about you, Sam?" asked Jack. "Anything coming up on Sunnydale?"

"Plenty. At a first glance it's exactly what you'd expect from a Californian town of that size, up to the moment it vanished. Average birth rate, death rate, income, number of children... shall I go on?"

"How average is average?" asked Daniel.

"Well done. It took me a while to spot it. It's exact, to two decimal places. Someone's edited the data, and didn't have much imagination."

"So what's the real story?" asked Jack.

"It's frustrating. Most of the sources I would have used went down with the town; the local newspaper, town records, that sort of thing. I've had to go with reports from other sources such as government archives and the Los Angeles papers. And even there I'm finding evidence of tampering. What's left is suggestive, but I'd like more."

"And?"

"There's no way that the death rate was as low as the official records claim. In ninety-nine there was a gas explosion at the high school during the graduation ceremony, totally wrecked the place. It killed sixteen students, some parents and teachers, and the Mayor of Sunnydale. Something like that would have an enormous effect on the statistics, there's nothing there."

"Anything else?"

"If you put Sunnydale into search engines you find hundreds of hits related to unsolved deaths and disappearances, all of it from second or third hand sources, very little that's official. Most of it looks less reliable than the average alien abduction story..."

"Carter..."

"Okay, I know, you were abducted by aliens. Not a good example. But you know what I mean. What I'm saying is that most of the stories look like urban myths, but there are so many of them that I'm inclined to believe that there's some underlying truth. Something very bad was going on in Sunnydale, going back at least fifteen or twenty years."

"What about you, Jack?" asked Daniel. "Found anything?"

"Not much," said Jack, "but I've talked to a few contacts in Special Forces. Everyone seems to know someone who knows someone who heard that some kind of operation went bad in California a few years ago. But it's like the stories Sam found, it's all second or third hand, rumour and speculation. Sunnydale was mentioned a couple of times, but not by anyone who really knew anything useful. The people who were there are saying zilch."

"Then how do you know that they know something?"

"Because it's the kind of zilch that screams 'this was really, really bad and nobody wants to carry the can.'"

"What kind of bad?" asked Sam, "NID bad?"

"Maybe, but nothing I've heard says so, and usually I'd hear if it was. Too many people are happy when they screw up."

"You know, we're doing a lot of guessing here, and we don't even know that there's any connection between the bodies and Sunnydale," said Daniel. "For all we know it's just a coincidence."

"Actually," said Sam, "that's what I came in to tell you. They've found the camper."

"And?"

"And it was dumped about four miles from the service station, camouflaged in brush wood. Showed up when we ran a satellite radar scan of the area."

"And?" asked Jack, sensing there was more.

"And it has at least a dozen arrow holes in it. Also marks from swords and axes."

"Let's get moving."

"Plane's already on the runway."


	4. III

"Damndest thing I've ever seen, Colonel," said the California Department of Transportation's forensic scientist, gesturing towards the driver's seat of a battered Winnebago RV. "Something like a spear went through the windscreen, the driver, and the seat behind him, he was incredibly lucky not to be killed. The only time I've seen anything like it was when a truck carrying rebar lost some of its load and a piece bounced off the road and hit the driver of the car behind."

"How do you know the driver wasn't killed?" asked Jack.

"Not enough blood. Either he didn't die or someone got him out first. If he'd died there the whole seat would have been soaked, not just the cover and the track through the seat."

"So let me get this straight, something impaled the driver somehow, then it crashed?"

"I think so. It was upright when the glass was broken, then we have a ninety degree arc of blood droplets radiating out from the hole in the seat cover, and damage and abrasion marks on the side of the vehicle. My guess, the driver lost control when he was hit, swerved, and it tipped onto on its side. Later someone hauled it back onto its wheels then towed it off the road and buried it."

"It couldn't get there under its own power?"

"The crash wrecked the transmission."

"Okay. How about fingerprints?"

"Not my field, as I understand it we've found a few faint marks but nothing useful. It's been a long time, most of the oils have evaporated. Not much chance there's going to be anything we can trace."

"What about blood group, that sort of thing?"

"O positive. Pretty common."

"Great."

"Apart from the holes in the windscreen and the driver's seat, there are rips in the side and roof. Something strong and sharp enough to go through sheet metal, most likely swords and axes. Five arrow holes, and a couple of arrows still stuck into the interior fittings."

"Have you tried to match the holes with the weapons from the grave site?"

"I'm still waiting on the report. My guess is they'll find matches."

"Okay, that's pretty helpful."

"Really? Wish you could explain it to me then, I'm still trying to figure things out."

"Like that?" asked Jack, pointing at metal foil which covered most of the remaining windscreen, apart from a narrow horizontal slot.

"Like that. Damned if I know why they did it. Must have really restricted visibility, there's just about enough of a gap to see the road ahead and the exterior mirrors. Might have been trying to stop people looking in, though I would have thought it would just attract attention. If they'd been spotted by a patrol we would have pulled them over. All of the blinds were down too."

"Weird."

Sam beckoned to Jack, and he went back towards the rear to talk to her. "Find something?"

She held up a newspaper. _"Sunnydale Press,_ the day it was stolen."

"And this is odd because...?"

"Firstly, it was stolen on its way into Sunnydale, not out, so this confirms that it made a stop there. Second, the number of obituaries and deaths reported is surprising. Assuming that the paper covered most of the deaths in Sunnydale and that nothing unusual was going on that week, the per capita death rate there must have been the highest in the USA, maybe the world outside combat zones."

"Violent deaths?"

"Not many seem to have died of old age. Here's one that fell on a couple of chop-sticks he was carrying, two killed by muggers wearing fright masks, another by an animal attack. A page of death notices, causes mostly unspecified. And this is a daily paper, not a weekly."

"Is it possible that they did a round-up once a week or something?"

"No. Most of the announcement are only a day or two old. And they mention... um... eleven different cemeteries and eight funeral homes in the announcements. Quite a few for a town that size."

"And nobody thought this was odd?"

"Apparently not. The front page story is about a shortage of psychiatric beds in the local hospital, the editorial is about delays in rebuilding the high school, so they weren't sounding any alarms."

"It sounds crazy," said Jack, "but I guess someone like Seth could manipulate an entire town to that extent. We've seen things like it before."

"That doesn't explain why the Knights were there. What were they after, and why did they leave?"

"Everything I'm seeing here says they were chasing the Winnebago. That make any sense to you?"

"Not much. What makes it so special?"

"Must be the occupants."

"Not Goa'uld," said Sam.

"Why not?"

"It's a little... squalid for them." She gestured at the chipboard and Formica cupboards, the peeling upholstery, and the worn linoleum on the floor. "Where's the gold, the gems, the dancing girls, the body-guards? I'd expect a stretch limo at the very least."

"Good point."

"That's odd..." Daniel said from the rear compartment of the camper.

"What have you got?" Jack and Sam went back, and found him kneeling, examining something in the mess of broken glass, China, sand, and brittle twigs that covered the floor.

"This belonged to an elderly couple?"

"That's right, the Campbells."

"Any kids? Grandchildren?" He held out a faded pink stuffed toy pig.

"Not that I know."

"There's nothing else here that might belong to a child, just this."

Jack took it, noticed a little tag under its belly, the initials B.S. in indelible ink. He tilted it experimentally, then squeezed it, but it didn't squeak.

"What makes you think it's significant?"

"I think the Campbells must be heavy smokers, there are three ashtrays in this mess and everything else in here seems to have nicotine and ash stains, even after three years in the desert. The pig's more or less clean."

"It's really reaching but I can get that checked, I suppose. They ought to remember it if it's theirs."

"It's cute," said Sam, examining it. "Well cared-for too. Someone's repaired it a couple of times."

"Okay. Let's bag this vitally important clue and see what else we can find."

"You receiving this, General?" asked Jack, looking towards the web cam. On the computer screen Hammond nodded and said "Go ahead, Colonel."

"Okay, not much to report since yesterday. Several items aboard the Winnebago turn out not to belong to the owners, or look significant one way or another. We've a definite Sunnydale connection, and some of the news reports of the evacuation of Sunnydale say that a lot of the residents wound up here in LA. I'd like to visit some, find out if any of them can remember anything odd happening in 2001."

"That's already in hand, Colonel. We have four teams covered as National Geographic researchers, they're interviewing everyone who was rehoused by the disaster fund."

"That's good. Okay, is Doctor Frasier there? I'll need her help explaining some of this stuff."

"Just a moment..." The screen split to show her in her surgery.

"Good afternoon," said Janet. "Did the police run the tests I suggested, Colonel?"

"Yes. All negative. Okay, we've got a few items here, I'll let Sam talk you through them." He adjusted the camera to give a wider view of the room, covering Sam and Daniel.

She held up an evidence bag, containing a faded comic. "First, a copy of X-Men volume II number 100," said Sam. "Dated May 2000 but went on sale at least a month earlier. Fingerprints, quite well preserved since it's inside a plastic bag, but none of them are on record. Price tag is for Sunnydale Comics, more proof that the camper stopped there. It's probably a coincidence that a villain in this issue is named Seth."

"You're kidding!" said Jack.

She shook her head. "One badly torn silk scarf with type A negative blood stains. One frying pan, badly dented, with traces of hair, skin, and type B positive blood in the dent. One 'Peaches' toy pig, made by Manhattan toys from the mid-eighties until a couple of years ago, with the initials B.S. written on its label."

"Were many of them made?" asked Hammond.

"Forty or fifty thousand over fifteen years or so."

"Carry on, Major."

"One last item," she held up an evidence bag, "a bottle containing two Bromopromazine tablets from a batch of twenty-four. Issued by Sunnydale Hospital Pharmacy a few days before the Winnebago was stolen, labelled with the patient's name of T. Maclay. They're 50 milligram tablets, dosage is given as 'One tablet at eight hour intervals, two tablets if distressed or violent.'"

"What's Bromopromazine?" asked Hammond.

"A tranquillizer." said Janet. "At that dosage I'd say it was prescribed for a seriously disturbed patient."

"Wasn't there something about psychiatric beds in the Sunnydale paper?" asked Jack.

"That's right," said Sam, "their hospital was having to turn patients away. It doesn't say why."

"So what's your theory, Colonel?" asked General Hammond.

"The Winnebago was stolen by a group of people including this Maclay. They left the town, and at some point the Knights of Byzantium attacked them. During the fight someone was hit with a frying pan, the driver was somehow impaled, then it crashed. The occupants took shelter in the old service station and presumably fought off the Knights, since we haven't found any bodies. It's possible that they had help, on the night the service station was destroyed someone used its pay phone to call a Sunnydale apartment block. Unfortunately the realtor that owned it lost all records when the town was destroyed and can't remember who occupied the apartment at that time."

"How many people would you say were involved?"

"Maclay, the driver, possibly a child with the initials BS, presumably at least three or four other people, and whoever they called."

"Why so many?"

"Why else steal a Winnebago?"

"There could be other reasons, but you're probably right. You're sure that Maclay wasn't the driver?"

"Definitely not, General," said Janet. "Anyone taking Bromopromazine in that dosage would be unfit to drive, and there would be detectable traces in the blood found on the seat. There weren't."

"Thank you, Doctor Frasier. Unless there's something else that needs your attention I'll let you get back to your work."

"Nothing at this end," said Jack. The screen switched back to a view of Hammond alone. "Any word from Teal'c?"

"He's still got nothing, Colonel. However, I do have some information."

"General?"

"I've been sounding out various contacts at the Pentagon, and one of them mentioned an odd fact. As you know there are various contingency plans for circumstances such as enemy invasions, terrorist use of nuclear weapons, and the like. These include a disaster plan for every major city."

"Makes sense, I guess."

"Until last year the Los Angeles plan had fourteen nuclear scenarios. Seven involve the use of tactical or strategic atomic weapons on the city itself, six relate to the detonation of dirty bombs, conventional explosives used to disperse nuclear waste."

"And the fourteenth?"

"From nineteen ninety-eight until last year the fourteenth assumed a nuclear detonation of five or one hundred and fifty kilotons centred on the nearby city of Sunnydale, California."

"Who the hell were they expecting to nuke Sunnydale?"

"I think you misunderstand, Colonel. Depending on its detonation mode, the W-80 cruise missile warhead has a yield of five or one hundred and fifty kilotons."

"Isn't that one of ours, General?" asked Sam.

"Correct. Although it was never stated explicitly, the plan assumed that the US government might find it necessary to destroy Sunnydale."

"What the _hell_ was going on there?" mused Jack.

"I don't know, Colonel, and it's still possible that it has nothing to do with us. But until we're sure of that we'll continue to investigate. What's your next step?"

"About the only real lead we have is the label on the pills, so we'll go with that. We'll try to identify this T. Maclay, see where it takes us."

"Very well, Colonel, carry on."


	5. IV

"This is the only Maclay I can find mentioned in a Sunnydale context," Sam said the following morning, in the temporary office they were using at Palmdale Air Force Base north of Los Angeles. "The Tara Maclay memorial fund for Wicca studies at UCLA. It mentions that she died in Sunnydale, California, in 2002. The fund was set up in December 2002."

"Does it say how she died?" asked Jack.

"No. I'll search on her name, see if anything else comes up.... here we go. Murder victim, aged twenty-two, shot by a Warren Mears, same age. He's still wanted by the California police. That's about it."

"Okay. I'll talk to the state police, see what else they know. Daniel, you're good with academic types, find out who set up the fund. Sam, see if you can find out anything more about Mears, Maclay, and their associates, and what actually happened to Sunnydale. Talk to geologists, that sort of thing. Oh, and Teal'c ought to be getting in to LA this afternoon, he's coming in via LAX, that's near the vehicle lab so I'll pick him up."

. . . . .

"Let's see now," said the fund administrator at UCLA, looking at his computer. "here we are. Tara Maclay memorial fund. Founded by Willow, Ira, and Sheila Rosenberg with an initial capital of twenty-five thousand dollars, we received another ten thousand dollars from Miss Rosenberg a couple of months ago."

"Had you ever met her before?" asked Daniel.

"Her father was a lecturer here at the time, I'd seen him and his wife around the campus. It was the only time I met Willow. I was a little surprised when she said that they wanted to set up a memorial fund, but it's a relatively simple procedure, we do it all the time."

"Why UCLA? There was a college in Sunnydale."

"I've no idea... although I seem to remember her being somewhat disparaging of the Wicca group at UC Sunnydale. She was a student there, I believe."

"How can a student afford to set up a scholarship?"

"Let me check the paperwork..." He went to a cabinet and pulled out a slim file. "Hmm, appears to have been paid from Miss Rosenberg's bank account, all tax formalities completed. I have an idea that she said something about royalties."

"Royalties? On a book? Music?"

"I think a patent, but I'm not entirely sure."

"I know it's been a while, but can you describe them?"

"Willow Rosenberg is a red-headed girl, I guess she'd be about twenty-three now, quite pretty. Ira and Sheila are both in their mid-forties. I'd imagine that there are photographs in some of our publications."

"Did they say why they were setting up the fund?"

"Apparently the girl was in a... a relationship with the late Miss Maclay. I got the impression that she'd taken her death very badly. I do remember that her parents seemed very concerned for her. They were pressing her to transfer to UCLA."

"Did she say anything about the circumstances of the death?"

"No."

"Has she had much input into the choice of fund recipients?"

"No, it's just split between students majoring in Wicca Studies."

"Do you have addresses for her or her parents?"

"Miss Rosenberg lived at 1630 Revello Drive in Sunnydale, at that time the parents were resident at the UCLA campus but I don't have a current address. As I said, her father is a touring lecturer, Sheila usually accompanies him. I've an idea that they're in Britain at the moment. I'd imagine the college post office will have the details."

"Thanks, that's very helpful. Umm... if Miss Rosenberg sent you more money, that presumably means she survived the disaster. Do you have a new address?"

"Let me see..." He checked the file again, then his Roladex. "Yes. Box 7297, Central Post Office, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil."

. . . . .

"Something I've been wondering, sergeant Baxter," said Jack, leaning against the battered Winnebago in the Department of Transportation garage and sipping a mug of coffee. "So far I've met a couple of dozen police officers since I got involved in this mess. Sunnydale's been mentioned every time, and nobody ever seems to know much about the place. How come?"

"Sunnydale... it was kinda odd," said the grizzled sergeant. "You'd hear odd rumours, stories of people who just vanished there, but apart from that the place was a black hole."

"Didn't your patrols go into the town?"

"The way it works in California is that the state police are part of the highway patrol, and the towns and cities handle their own policing, unless we're called in to help. Add to that, they say that the old mayor there was connected some way, certainly seemed to have a lot of influence, our orders were always to keep clear of the place unless we were called in, that didn't change after he died. Sunnydale just never called for help. Oh, we got a few 'wanted' notices from them, but a lot less than you might expect from a town that size."

"What happened to the Sunnydale police after the town was destroyed? Any ideas?"

"I heard a couple of the younger ones applied to join the patrol. Didn't make the grade. Most of them just retired. There were stories that some of the older cops were loaded, had a lot more money than you'd reasonably expect on police pay, but I wouldn't know if there was any truth in that."

"When you say the Mayor was connected, what do you mean? Politically? To the mob? Big business?"

"Politically. I heard that he and Senator Bruckner were pals, Sunnydale voted pretty solidly for her at the last election."

"Wasn't she assassinated?"

"That's right. Some whack job bust into her campaign headquarters and took an axe to her. Still unsolved. Shame, she was real strong on law and order issues."

"Something I've been meaning to ask. Who organised the evacuation of Sunnydale? The police? The National Guard? Red Cross?"

"Try none of the above. The way I've heard it happened, over the course of a few days everyone in that town seemed to get kinda frightened, started evacuating the place by themselves. Eventually there weren't enough people there to keep the power and phones running, and that spooked the rest."

"Some scientists think it was caused by low frequency sound," said one of the crime scene investigators working on the Winnebago.

"Sound?" asked Baxter.

"Ever been at a rock concert or a political rally, stood close to the speakers when they were playing a low note?" asked the scientist.

"Sure. What about it?"

"If the note's loud but too low a frequency to hear it can still affect your body and your inner ear. Some notes can make people feel dizzy, nauseous, even paranoid, depending on the frequency. It's one of the things they have to watch out for when they're designing cars and concert halls."

"What's that got to do with Sunnydale?" asked Jack.

"The theory is that there was a natural resonant chamber, part of the cave system under the town. As a prelude to the collapse steam or escaping gas made it vibrate in a really low note, just loud enough to affect people throughout the town. Once a few people started to react to it there could be a domino effect, ending up with a total stampede."

"Any proof of that?"

"Zilch, and there are still a lot of unanswered questions, like why they didn't all feel ill first. But it's the best theory I've heard. Oh, by the way, I've matched four of the holes in this baby to the swords those guys were carrying. I think you can assume that they're the ones that attacked it."

"Thanks, it always helps to be sure."

When he was finished Jack found a quiet corner and got out his cellphone. "Sam... remember those plants with the sound attack on.. um.. PJ whatever it was, about four or five years ago? Any way to check if the NID or any of our other friends have been developing sound weapons?"

. . . . .

"This can't be right, airman," said Sam, looking at the safety barriers.

"It's the only address I've got, major," said her driver. "Maybe part of the building is open, or they've got temporary offices somewhere else."

"Circle the block, I'll ask at the site office."

Sam climbed out of the car and went towards the only opening, noting signs for a leading construction company. A burly construction worker stood at the entrance. "Yeah?"

"I'm looking for the offices of Wolfram and Hart."

"Somewhere under this pile of rubble, lady."

"What the hell happened?"

"You tell me. The foundations collapsed overnight about a month ago, place went down like a stack of cards. Took out the building, all their records, everything. They think there might be some bodies under there too, but we haven't found anything yet."

"Is there another office? A temporary one, maybe?"

"Nope. Company's out of business, as far as I know, at least in LA. They've got offices in other cities, I guess, maybe you could try calling them."

"Damn, I was hoping... Never mind. Thanks for your time, you've been very helpful."

"Pleasure, lady."

As Sam walked back to wait for the car her phone beeped. It was Jack. "... Any way to check if the NID or any of our other friends have been developing sound weapons?"

"Someone told you about the Sunnydale theory?"

"You already knew?"

"Yes, I found out about it this morning, it's generally considered the most likely hypothesis for the evacuation of the town."

"So could the NID have been the real cause?"

"It's possible, not very likely. You'd need an incredible amount of power to pull it off."

"Maybe the NID have some other way to get the effect, like force fields to shake things directly, rather than using sound. Maybe something like that caused the collapse."

"It's just about possible, I suppose... in fact right now I'm looking at a pile of rubble where Mears' attornies used to have their offices. Something like that with enough power behind it might just have brought it down. But you could get the same effect a lot more easily and predictably with a few blocks of C5."

"Damn. Okay, I'm heading for the airport to pick up Teal'c. See you back at the base."

Moments later the phone beeped again. This time it was Daniel. "...So I checked out the SAT scores for California, they're filed centrally, and Rosenberg was in the top two to three percent for her year."

"For Sunnydale?"

"For all of California. I wouldn't be surprised if she could give you competition, Sam."

"And?"

"I'm wondering what she patented. If she's as smart as she sounds, it could be important."

. . . . .

"Sorry you had to come in to LAX," said Jack, leading Teal'c to the SUV he was using, "Palmdale's involved in an air defence exercise right now, all non-essential traffic is banned."

"There is no need to apologise, Colonel O'Neill. It was a comfortable flight." He climbed into the seat and sat back, his woolen cap covering the seal on his forehead.

"It's about eighty miles. The commute shouldn't be too bad this early in the afternoon."

"Very well."

"Did the General have any more information from the Pentagon?"

"None was vouchsafed to me, Colonel.

"So... anything from the Jaffa rebels or the Tok'ra?"

"There is nothing. The patterns slightly resemble those of various system lords, but deviate from the normal designs to an extent that would never be tolerated by the Goa'uld."

"Did you have a chance to see your son and Bra'tac? How are they doing?"

"Both are making excellent recoveries."

"Did Hammond brief you on the Knights of Byzantium? Daniel's theory that they were founded by a Goa'uld but lost contact somewhere along the way?"

"I read Doctor Jackson's notes on them during the flight. If he is correct, they might be formidable warriors."

"Someone massacred them, Teal'c."

"Yet some returned to bury their dead, and possibly disposed of whatever killed them. These are not the actions of cowards. We must determine if they are now allied or opposed to the Goa'uld."

"Or have nothing to do with them. It could still be just a coincidence."

"Indeed, Colonel O'Neill."

"This is going to be a long drive."

"Indeed, Colonel O'Neill?"

"Never mind."

. . . . .

"Excuse me..."

Daniel looked up from the computer he was using in UCLA's library, and realised that it was getting dark. There was a man in his late twenties standing by the desk, waiting patiently to get his attention. He wore casual civilian clothes but there was something about him, his posture and seemingly casual watchfulness, that made Daniel guess he was military. He wore a canvas belt pouch in the small of his back, which Daniel suspected was a gun.

"Sorry, what can I do for you?"

"Doctor Jackson?"

"Yes?"

"I hear you're interested in a friend of mine."

"Which friend would that be?"

"Young lady, redhead, used to live in Sunnydale."

"Maybe."

"No maybe about it. My advice, stay out of it."

"Stay out of what?"

"Sunnydale, and anything that has anything to do with the place."

"And if I can't?"

"If you're lucky you'll live to regret it."

"And if not?"

"I hear heaven's kinda pleasant, unless you're headed for the other place."

"Is that a threat?"

"I don't think you were born stupid. Of _course_ it's a threat. But not from me. You're headed into a whole world of hurt, and it's one that you're not ready to handle. Not you, and not your friends from Colorado."

"How did you...?"

"You have your sources, I have mine. Now, I know I'm not going to convince you on my own, so I'd like to set up a meet, you and your team, me and a couple of friends that have actually been in Sunnydale. An unofficial exchange of views, strictly off the record. How does that sound to you?"

"Incredibly stupid."

"You're a fast learner." He tossed a card onto the desk. "Okay, I know you can't agree to this without the Colonel, so here's my cell-phone number, call it after twenty-two hundred and I'll answer. We'll meet tomorrow, any reasonably public place you like, no more than three or four of you, there'll be three or four of us. No tricks or we just won't show."

"And if we don't want to?"

"Your funeral. Take it or leave it."

"One last question. Are you NID?"

"Those bozos? Get real." He turned and walked out, leaving Daniel looking at a card that read 'Graham Miller - Consultant - 1-555-555-5325'


	6. V

"Do we know _anything_ about this guy?" asked Jack as he, Sam, and Daniel crossed Griffith Park towards the picnic site where they'd agreed to meet Miller.

"We found records for dozens of people by that name," said Sam, "but none of them are a good match for his appearance. The cell phone was sold a couple of days ago, the buyer paid cash. The only fingerprints on the card were Daniel's."

"I think he must have handled it by the edges," Daniel said defensively.

"So he's the invisible man. Okay, let's all be on our toes, whatever he's selling probably isn't what we want to buy."

"There he is," said Daniel, spotting Miller about fifty yards away in one of the picnic areas of Griffith Park.

"Okay," said Jack, "Everyone ready?"

"I guess," said Daniel.

"Yes," said Sam, resisting the urge to salute since they were wearing civilian clothes.

"Sound check?"

Tealc responded over the earphone Jack was wearing; _"We are ready, Colonel O'Neill, and hearing you clearly."_ He was waiting with a squad of military police in a truck parked on the edge of Griffith Park, ready to intervene if there was any trouble, listening to the transmitters all three wore under their clothing.

"Okay, let's do it." Jack led the way towards Miller.

"Glad you could make it," said Miller, gesturing towards a picnic table where two other men were sitting. "Won't you join us, Colonel?"

"Don't mind if we do," said Jack, leading Sam and Daniel towards the table.

"Colonel, Doctor Jackson, Captain Carter..."

"Major Carter," said Sam.

"Sorry, Major Carter. I'd like you to meet Riley Finn," he gestured towards another man around his own age, "and Ethan Rayne," a pale man in his fifties.

"You might as well sit down," Rayne said with a British accent, "less conspicuous, and the food's actually reasonably good."

"Okay," said Jack. They sat on one of the benches, Sam and Jack flanking Daniel, with Finn opposite Jack and Miller opposite Sam.

"There's tuna salad, eggs, some quite good rollmop herrings, ham, and so forth," said Rayne, "Also some cheese and vegetarian quiche."

"Fine," said Jack, a little impatiently. "Now would you mind telling me what this is about? And who you guys are?"

"Moi?" said Rayne, "I'm not in charge, but I'm sure our gallant leader will explain things."

"That would be me," said Finn. "Okay, officially we're a counter-terrorism unit loosely attached to Homeland Security. Dig deeper and we're covered as an NSA covert counter-terrorism black ops unit covered as a Homeland Security counter-terrorism unit."

"Your _cover_ is NSA?"

"That's right. It saves a lot of awkward questions. Everyone knows that the NSA doesn't answer them."

"And you can prove any of this?"

Finn pulled out a leather wallet and showed him a Homeland Security ID card. There was no indication of rank.

"And the rest of it?"

"Isn't available at your security clearance."

"So what are you really? NID?"

"No. Some ex-SEALs, a proportion of people like me that came into SpecOps straight from college, and a couple of civilian consultants like Ethan here. We've managed to keep NID out of our operation."

"How?"

He smiled. "We have a second unit with the same cover that really does very boring Homeland Security intelligence evaluations. Once they're in we load them with work and make it really hard to quit."

"And what exactly do you really do?"

"About the same thing you do, I think. We're trying to prevent the destruction of the human race."

"Us? Save the human race?"

"Remember a guy called Seth Fargough, ran a doomsday cult?"

"Possibly."

"We were getting ready to take him out when you did it for us. After that we started to ask a few questions, ended up with a lot more."

"Which you know we can't answer," said Jack.

"That's okay. The word is you're fighting a bunch of false gods, guys running weird religious cults and faking supernatural powers. That's one of the signs of a Foothold, whatever that means. That about right?"

"Something like that," Jack said cautiously.

"Then we're in more or less in the same business. The big difference is that we work with the real thing."

"The real... what?"

"Gods and supernatural powers. Ever hear of Jasmine?"

"Some sort of charismatic religious figure?" asked Sam. Finn nodded, and Sam added "She seemed to be in the news every day a year or so ago, then she just vanished."

"We got lucky that time," said Finn. "Take a look at this. The local TV station had a crew at her last press conference, they didn't air the tape but we managed to get hold of it." He produced a portable DVD player and pressed 'play'. It showed a beautiful black woman, Jasmine, speaking at a press conference. A reporter asked: _"What can we do to show our love for you?"_ Jasmine replied _"You don't have to do anything except love one another. Although, a temple would be nice. Something massive and awe-inspiring - yet warm and nurturing!"_ There was an odd noise, and the camera swung round to show a dark-haired man stagger out of a bubble of blue lightning, clutching a monstrous-looking head. Jasmine screamed _"Kill him! All of you, kill him now!"_, and the crowd surged toward him. He held the head out threateningly, then said _"I'm sorry"_ and cut threads that were holding its lips closed. Impossibly the head seemed to say something, a sibillant hiss, and the crowd started to scream. The camera swung back towards Jasmine, showing that the beautiful woman was replaced by a rotting corpse, crawling with maggots. She seemed to glow, her face and skin shifting back to a slightly more normal appearance, crying _"No! Please. Pay no attention. It's a lie. See? I—I'm not— Wait! Please! Don't leave me!"_

Riley pressed 'stop'. "That was Jasmine."

"What the hell was that?" asked Jack.

"A god. A real one. She could control people's minds, see through their eyes. We think she must have killed three or four hundred people before that happened, but since there was nothing left of them there's no way to be sure. We were still trying to think of a way to take her out without falling under her power when that happened."

"What exactly did happen?" asked Daniel.

"We weren't exactly in a position to ask questions. We _think_ that the head spoke her true name and broke the spell that made everyone love her."

"Spell?" asked Sam.

"Here we go," said Rayne, in bored tones. "This is the part I hate. Magic is real, spells work, there are gods and demons and monsters, no we haven't been smoking anything... well, not recently anyway, worse luck... and no, we're not joking, and no, it doesn't obey scientific laws."

"And we should believe this because...?" asked Jack.

"Show them," said Riley.

"Bollocks," said Rayne.

"Show them or we re-think your parole. Please."

"Threats, is it? All right, since you ask so nicely. This'll take a minute or two, do talk amongst yourselves." Rayne picked up one of the hard-boiled eggs, cut it in two and showed them the two halves, then put them back together on a paper plate and carefully emptied a plastic film can full of grey powder around it, forming a complex braided pattern. He began to mutter something in Latin, Daniel thought he recognised an invocation to the gods, then touched a match to the powder. Fire rapidly spread around the plate then vanished, leaving the pattern as a tracery of blue light around the egg. Impossibly the egg seemed to be whole again and covered with shell. There was a tapping noise and it began to rock, cracks appearing at one end, and the head of a chick emerged.

"Well, that was different," said Jack. The chick continued to break out. There seemed to be something odd about it, eyes filmed with grey and a putrescent smell, the smell of rotten eggs. Rayne picked up a knife and cut the lines, which vanished. The chick fell over, decomposing, and slowly crumpled to dust.

"You can't bring something back to life that easily, especially when it's been cooked," said Rayne, "but it takes a while for the universe to notice. Someone get rid of this, the smell's putting me off my food." He was sweating and pale. Miller picked up the plate and dumped it in a trash can.

"So you're a wizard?" said Daniel.

"No, that was all done with mirrors, you twit. Of course I'm a bloody wizard!"

"What was that about parole?" asked Jack.

"So I like a little fun. Not that many people got hurt..."

"Ethan likes chaos," said Riley, "but he likes prison a lot less. That's where he's going if he tries any of his little games again and we know how to make sure he stays there."

"Okay, Magic." said Jack. "I guess it isn't something we see every day."

"I can think of ways that could be accomplished at a quantum level," said Sam, "but not with something as big as an egg. I'll have to think about it, see what I can come up with."

"And that's it?" asked Ethan. "No fear? No awe? Bloody hell, I might as well retire."

Jack said "So what's this got to do with Sunnydale and the dead guys in chain mail?"

"I'm getting to that," said Finn, "but you need to know some of the background first. First thing is that magic exists. Second, there are various supernatural creatures, most of them pretty nasty, including demons, vampires, werewolves, and so forth. With me so far?"

"I hear what you're saying. I'm not sure I'm willing to believe it without more evidence."

"Good enough. We're in the business of taking out the dangerous ones, the ones that want to eat people or destroy the human race."

"Aren't all demons dangerous?" asked Daniel.

"No, there's plenty that just want to live like anyone else. Quite a few of them pass for human, others live where they don't have much contact with people. Our policy is to leave them alone unless they're hostile, we learned that the hard way."

"In Sunnydale?" Jack asked quickly.

"Amongst other places. Now, you might be wondering where all this stuff comes from, and the best explanation I have is that some of it seeps in from alternate worlds with different physical laws, the rest is part of this world but a part that most people seem to be incapable of seeing. I've seen someone knocked over by a demon and get back up swearing that it was a mugger. The tape we copied to make that DVD was abandoned by the camera crew, afterwards they all swore something had gone wrong with the camera."

"Sunnydale?" Jack asked again.

"Sunnydale was a Hellmouth, a place where the demons find it unusually easy to get into our world. Towards the end of 2000 someone called Glory, AKA Glorificus, arrived in Sunnydale with some demon minions and started sucking the sanity out of people. Left them disturbed, trapped inside their own heads."

"Was Tara Maclay one of them?" asked Sam, remembering the pills found in the Winnebago.

"Yes," said Finn, looking a little surprised.

"Why Sunnydale?" asked Jack.

"She was looking for something she called the Key."

"The Key?" asked Jack. "What kind of key?" He wondered if they knew about the Knights.

"I've heard it described as a ball of green energy, but that's about all any of us know. It could be used to rip a hole in our universe and all the other parallel worlds, let her get out of our world and back to wherever she came from."

"And that would be bad because..?"

"Because the holes would stay there and spread like a cancer," said Rayne, "mixing them until nowhere was safe. I'm an anarchist at heart, but even I rather like living in a world where I can be reasonably sure that gravity works and it won't rain acid or frogs."

"That makes sense," said Sam. "Once things started to move between the universes, even something as small as gas particles, entropic cascade failure would eventually start to...."

"I'm sure it would," Jack said hastily. "But maybe it can wait for another time. So this Glory wanted to destroy the universe, and needed the Key to do it. Who had it?"

"Some people in Sunnydale," said Finn. "You already know about Willow Rosenberg. I'm not going to name anyone else involved because most of them are my friends." Rayne snorted, seemed to be about to say something, then noticed Graham's glare and closed his mouth.

"Okay," said Jack, wondering where Finn was going with this.

"To cut a long story short, this ended up as a three way fight between Glory, my friends, and the guys in armour, who belonged to a group called the Knights of Byzantium. They were killed by Glory. All of them, in about thirty seconds. Then she somehow got hold of the key and took it back to Sunnydale and cast the spell. My friends caught up with her there, killed her, broke the spell, and closed the hole again."

"That's an interesting story," said Jack, "got proof for any of it?"

"We had a few cameras planted around Sunnydale, I could show you Glory in action. I'm not going to because it would show my friends too."

"Your loyalty is touching," said Jack, "but if that's the case why are you even talking to us?"

"It's very simple," said Miller. "This investigation you're running is taking you on a collision course with Willow Rosenberg."

"So?"

"Remember the Titanic?" asked Finn.

"The Titanic?"

"Willow Rosenberg and a few friends killed a god. Not just a demon, Glory was powerful and invulnerable as your average comic book superhero. Since then Willow's got a lot more powerful. You saw what Ethan just did?"

"Sure."

"Willow Rosenberg is known to have raised someone from the dead, more than three months after she was killed."

"Okay," said Daniel. "That's impressive." He thought of sarcophagi, frozen corpses revived after millions of years and his time ascended, and tried to sound like he meant it.

"Was it Tara Maclay?" asked Sam.

"No. Tara couldn't be brought back."

"That's interesting, but it doesn't seem terribly dangerous," said Daniel.

"That's true." Finn pressed play on the DVD and showed them a silent clip of a dark-haired woman with dark veins on her face, floating in mid-air, bricks flying from the wall she was facing. "This was a few hours after Tara Maclay was killed. Two of Warren Mears' accomplices were in the cells in that building. We think that they managed to get away, but we still have no idea what happened to Mears. My guess is that we never will."

"Telekinesis," said Sam. "Pretty powerful. Wasn't she a redhead?"

"Dark magic," said Rayne, "as black as it gets. I hear she's pretty much over it now, but I really wouldn't want to be the one that got her annoyed."

"Okay," said Jack. "She's tough, she's killed a god, she was involved in the massacre in California. Anything else?"

"What happened to the key?" asked Daniel. "I don't think you said."

"No idea," said Finn, "but we're pretty sure it's in good hands."

"And Sunnydale?" asked Jack.

"The best intel we have on that is that Willow closed the Hellmouth permanently, just over a year ago."

"By destroying the town?"

"I think it falls under the heading of unintended side-effects."

"You said you kill gods," said Daniel. "Is she a god by your definitions?"

"That's an interesting question," said Finn. "Right now she's probably the most powerful witch in the world. Give her a few more years and she might just qualify. Fortunately she's pretty much on our side, so I hope we'll never have to try to take her out."

"And you think she has this key?" asked Jack.

"Forget the key. As far as we know it was a one-shot deal, couldn't be used again."

"So why are you so worried?" asked Sam.

"Worried?"

"You've told us a lot, and the only thing I'm getting out of it is that you don't want us near Rosenberg. Why?"

"Because what we want isn't really relevant. Willow wants to talk to you, and I want to be damned sure that you don't piss her off when you meet her."


	7. VI

"So that's the situation, General," Jack said, "If Finn and his colleagues are who they say they are, and they're telling the truth, we're going to have a seriously annoyed witch on our hands if we don't meet her tomorrow. I don't know what she could do to us, but I'd prefer not to find out the hard way."

"You'll attend the meeting, Colonel O'Neill," said General Hammond. "On instructions from the White House."

"Which part of the White House?" asked Jack, raising his eyebrows.

"The President. After your earlier call I queried Finn's credentials and got a very quick reply. You and SG-1 are to extend all possible co-operation to Finn, Ms. Rosenberg and her associates provided that doing so does not compromise the SGC's primary mission. If necessary you may draw on our resources and personnel, subject to strict security. You are to report back verbally to me, in the event that I am incapacitated my replacement will be briefed by the President. Any questions?"

"Are you _sure_ that comes from the President?"

"Certain. I've used the direct line to obtain confirmation."

"Do I take orders from her?"

"The instructions say co-operation, Colonel. It's up to you to determine how that works."

"Understood, Sir."

"Good luck, Colonel. I think you may need it."

"I wasn't expecting this to be quite so public," muttered Jack. Beside him Sam murmured "Neither was I, Sir."

"Indeed not, Colonel," said Teal'c. Daniel nodded absent-mindedly and tried to see over the heads of the small crowd, mostly children, gathered at the rim of the Sunnydale crater. Willow Rosenberg stood facing them about fifty feet from the edge, next to a cairn of small rocks and stones, which stood about eight feet high. She wore jeans, a red check shirt, and suede boots, and looked about eighteen. Behind her the murky water that now filled the crater concealed the last remnants of the city.

"Good afternoon," said Willow, her voice amplified by a small PA system, "Welcome to Sunnydale Crater National Park. I'm Willow Rosenberg, a former resident of Sunnydale, and I'm standing in for Ranger Curtis over there, also formerly resident here, who would usually give this talk. He's asked me to explain the significance of this cairn, which was started on the first anniversary of the destruction of Sunnydale. It happens that I was involved in the decision to build it, and he felt that I might be able to give you my perspective on its construction."

"It's believed that about thirty people were killed when Sunnydale was destroyed, and you'll have already seen their memorial near the entrance to the park. After it was built some of us realised that the formal memorial and the lives it commemorates are only the tip of the iceberg. Several generations lived and died in Sunnydale, and without exception their graves and memorials were lost when the city was destroyed. Before them there was a Spanish settlement, also now lost. The city, parish and temple records were destroyed, so there's no way we will ever know all their names. Nevertheless we felt that it would be unfortunate if those who had lived here and their families, friends and loves were completely forgotten."

"When we were talking about this someone mentioned an old Jewish custom that seemed relevant. When you visit a grave you leave a pebble, as a mark of respect and to symbolise memories of the dead. It's not a religious custom as such, more a cultural thing. In the Holy Land there are many graves that are known only because visitors left stones, some carried hundreds of miles, building cairns that have endured for centuries. We decided that it'd be nice if someone did something like that here, and somehow persuaded the Parks Service to agree to let us start it. It's still being added to by visitors and I hope that people will continue to do so for many years to come."

"Okay. That's really about all there is to it, except to say that if any of you had relatives or friends buried here, or would like to add to the memorial, I hope that you'll leave a pebble for them. If you don't have any with you there's a few barrels of them over near the picnic area. I'm just gonna do that myself, and say 'hi' to a few friends that I haven't seen for a while. Meanwhile Ranger Curtis will answer your questions and talk to you about the geology of the area and some theories about the destruction of Sunnydale. Have a nice day, and try not to fall over the edge."

There was a polite ripple of applause. A uniformed park ranger in his thirties took her place at the microphone and she went to the mound and started to leave pebbles, talking softly to herself as she did so. Daniel started to count them, but lost track at fourteen or fifteen. Eventually she walked round the crowd towards Jack and his team.

She looked at them, seemed to recognise Jack's face, and said "Colonel O'Neill?"

"Miss Rosenberg?"

"That's right. Thanks for coming. They'll be here for a while, if you'd like to come with me we can go somewhere a little quieter to talk. Want to introduce me?"

"Sorry. Major Samantha Carter, Doctor Daniel Jackson, and Murray."

_"Murray?"_ said Willow, staring up at Teal'c. "Funny, you don't look Jewish."

"Indeed I am not," said Teal'c.

"In fact I'd have to say you don't feel exactly human."

"I am not. I am a Jaffa."

"Spelled like the city?"

"I guess so," said Jack. "It's complicated. Don't worry, he's a good guy."

"Okay, not a problem. Follow me, it's just a couple of hundred yards." She led them along a path through bushes parallel to the edge of the crater.

"I noticed you were leaving quite a few stones," said Daniel.

"About a quarter of my high-school class didn't make it to graduation, we've lost all their graves. Also family, friends, my girlfriend..." she tailed off into silence.

"Sorry, didn't mean to pry. The Mormons might be able to help you with parish records."

"We think most of the Mormon missionaries to visit Sunnydale were eaten. Not a good town to go knocking on doors or hanging around in graveyards." The path ended in a stretch of badly cracked road where an old yellow school bus stood inside a metal fence, about thirty feet from the edge of the crater, under a plastic canopy. Signs identified it as the last vehicle out of Sunnydale. Willow produced a small key and opened the gate, ushered them in, and locked it behind them. The bus doors opened as they approached. "Climb in, it's a good place to talk."

Inside there were the usual shabby seats, and two dark-haired women, a little younger than Willow, who watched SG-1 climb aboard but didn't say anything. Both of them seemed to tense as Teal'c came into view. One of them was holding a powerful-looking crossbow, the other a short sword. "Okay," said Willow, "We'll talk in the back. Kennedy, Dana, I'm not expecting any trouble but make sure that nobody tries to listen in."

The girl with the crossbow said "You know that guy's not human?"

"Sure. Don't fret it, sweetie."

"Well don't blame me or Dana if he tries to eat your brains or something."

"There will be no eating of brains," said Teal'c.

"Good to know," said Willow.

"Do you get that a lot?" asked Jack as they settled into the rear seats. Willow sat sideways on one of seats of the row in front of them, her legs in the aisle.

"Brain-eating? From time to time. Blood-sucking's a lot more common. Would any of you like a coke or something?" She pulled out a cooler from under the seat. Daniel and Sam took drinks, Jack said "Maybe later," and Teal'c just shook his head.

"What's this about, Miss Rosenberg?"

"The Knights of Byzantium, of course."

"I don't understand. The way Finn told it, they were all killed three years ago."

"That's what we thought too. We should have known better. We didn't have time to clear up the bodies after Glory killed them, when the police didn't find them we should have guessed that someone else took care of the mess. Buried them, hid the RV, burned down the service station."

"More of them?" asked Jack.

"That'd be my guess," said Willow, "Whoever it was did a really thorough job."

"What makes you think the Knights are still around?"

"About three months ago four of them attacked me in Rio. Caught me a little off-guard, I might have been in trouble if Kennedy hadn't been with me. Since then there's been attacks in Italy, England, and Africa. And they've given up on the medieval weapons, the guys in Rio had shotguns, in Africa it was hunting rifles."

"Anyone hurt?"

"Only on their side."

"What are they after?"

"How much did Riley tell you?"

"He told us about someone called Glory, and we know that the Knights were interested in something called the Key. Oh, and he had someone show us some magic."

"Did he mention Vampire Slayers?" Jack could hear the capitals in the way she said it.

"I don't think so."

"Sometimes he takes secrecy too far. Okay, there's a long version of this that goes through several thousand years of history and tradition. The short version is that they're girls, magically selected, with super strength, incredibly fast reactions, and a load of instincts and skills that make them very good at killing vampires and demons. Usually they get their powers at fifteen or so, and they're dead by seventeen or eighteen. As each one dies another is chosen and gets the powers."

_"Seventeen or eighteen?"_ Sam repeated incredulously.

"It's incredibly dangerous, and until last year there was only one Slayer at a time, so not much backup. Well, two for a while, but that's another story."

"What happened last year?" asked Jack.

"An apocalypse. There was a good chance that several thousand demons would have been let loose, no way that one Slayer could handle them, so I.. kinda renegotiated the spell that created them. From now on any girl with the potential will have the power."

"Is that what destroyed Sunnydale?" asked Daniel.

"No, though it was part of the same problem. We had to shut down the Hellmouth completely, make sure it would never open again. We kinda succeeded beyond our wildest dreams."

"And now you have more than one Slayer?" asked Jack. "Won't that just mean more are killed?"

"Maybe," Willow said defensively, "but they're mostly working in teams, not on their own, with good backup, and that makes a huge difference. We've lost a couple since then, but we're achieving far more than a single slayer ever could."

"Okay... I guess you know what you're talking about, so the big question has to be where do we come into the picture?"

"You know about the knights. We think they have a plan, but we don't know what it is. Both guys we managed to capture wouldn't talk. One killed himself before we could put on any pressure, the other bit off his own tongue. We're guessing that they want revenge, or they think we have the Key, but revenge seems most likely. Everyone that was attacked was around when Glory killed their army, we think that they've got the idea that we did it."

"And did you?"

"Those guys were human. That's not the way we work."

Jack wondered about that, remembering what he'd heard about Warren Mears and his friends, and said "What about the Key?"

"Umm... that's kinda difficult. Let me put it this way... it was activated by a human sacrifice, and so far as we know it can't be used again, but it's possible that destroying it might activate it. We decided that it was best to keep it well away from the Knights. It's pretty well guarded, you'd have to kill people to get at it."

"What about the monks that originally had it?" asked Daniel.

"You've really been working at this," Willow said approvingly. "Glory killed them, the last of them sent the Key to us magically."

"Okay," said Jack. "We'll leave it at that for now. I'll ask again, where do we come into this?"

"This is where it gets difficult to explain," said Willow, taking a sip from a can of diet cola.

"Try. Or let us get back to our normal duties."

"Okay," said Willow, "Dana and Kennedy are Slayers. That means, as well as the things I mentioned, that they have a kinda shared memory, usually working through dreams, going back thousands of years." Daniel began to pay much more attention. "They also sometimes get prophetic dreams. Dana is unusually sensitive to that stuff. Just before Kennedy and I were attacked she and some others began to have the same dream. Dana's given us the most details." She raised her voice slightly. "Dana, could you come back a second?"

"Yes." Dana walked back along the aisle of the coach, and Sam realised that her eyes and face seemed to be totally expressionless.

"Dana, could you describe the dream please?"

"Yes." Her voice was a monotone. "Something falls from the sky, a thing like a little plane, and smashes in the desert. Soon men and machines come to dig it up, and find bodies. Later another man comes, this man," she pointed to Jack, "and watches what they do. Then there is a battle, somewhere in a city, they're fighting men in metal with tattooed faces, with guns that bend like snakes and fire lightning." Jack realised that she could be describing zats. "Bodies everywhere. Children, men and women. Soon the dark birds come to eat their flesh..." She seemed to shudder and stopped talking, then said something in another language. Startled, Daniel recognised ancient Egyptian: _"Drive the demons from our land, kill them or drive them back to the ring. None shall be spared."_

_"Were you there?"_ he replied in the same language, _"Did you drive the Goa'uld from our world?"_

She stared at him, looked past him to Teal'c, and leaped at him screaming.


	8. VII

Teal'c caught Dana's arms and tried to hold her off. She wrenched her left arm free and feinted at his eyes with clawed nails, then slammed her right hand into his stomach, ripping through his T-shirt and up to her wrist in his body. Teal'c doubled over, coughing explosively. Jack tried to grab her from the side, but she hit him with the elbow of her left arm, hard enough to knock him back into his seat, then punched Sam as she tried to grab her from the other side, smashing her head into the window so hard that she saw stars. Trying to reach her past Jack, Daniel glimpsed Kennedy racing down the aisle of the bus, crossbow ready to fire. Then Willow was touching a hand to Dana's head, her eyes suddenly black, and Dana crumpled to the floor. Kennedy slowly lowered the crossbow. Teal'c flopped back into his seat, his shirt red with blood.

"Are you okay?" asked Daniel.

Teal'c coughed, then said "I believe that the skin and several muscles are torn, Daniel Jackson, apart from that I think there is no permanent damage."

"But your..." began Willow.

"I am not constructed as you, there is a cavity there. Fortunately I also differ from most of my kind. Their sym.... they would be seriously injured."

"Are you sure?" asked Sam, rubbing her head ruefully, then looking in her shoulder bag for a first aid kit.

"I am. I will take an extra dose of tretonin, it will heal in a few hours. Are you hurt, Major Carter?"

"Nothing an ice pack won't fix."

"How about you, Jack?" asked Daniel

"Fine, I guess. Apart from my pride. Thanks for taking an interest."

"I hope that the girl is uninjured," said Teal'c

"What the hell did you say to her?" asked Willow, crouching over Dana and testing her pulse.

"She said something in ancient Egyptian," said Daniel, "which relates to ..um... our normal line of work. When I asked her about it she attacked him."

"Why?"

"For thousands of years my kind have been bred as warriors," said Teal'c, "bound to false gods. I believe that the girl remembered their banishment."

"What were they?" asked Willow, "Some kinda demon?"

"Something like that," Jack said hastily.

"Is that why you have a mark under your hat?" asked Willow, ignoring Jack.

"Yes. It is a mark of servitude." He lifted his hat to show the mark of Apophis. "I am sure that you did not have an opportunity to see it, how did you know it is there?"

"It shows in your aura. Okay, not the same as any of the Knights, I guess, and it's not ink."

"Even so, we're guessing there might be a connection," said Jack. "The Knights might have been influenced by them."

"Makes sense. What can you tell me about them?"

"Not much. Security."

"We'll probably figure it out eventually."

"I'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Will Dana be okay?" asked Sam.

"She'll probably be out for an hour or two," said Willow, "she usually is after one of these episodes."

"What brings them on?"

"Usually the memory of something pretty nasty. The downside of remembering the lives of thousands of slayers is that you remember their deaths too, and slayers tend to die young and messily. Most of them can tune it down, but Dana gets bits of everything, from the first slayer to the girl that was killed three weeks ago."

"Shouldn't she be..." Jack began.

"In an institution? In prison?"

"I guess."

"She escaped from one a few weeks after she became a Slayer. There's no way to keep a Slayer prisoner if she really wants to get out, short of killing her, and she'd kill people along the way. There are drugs that can reduce the powers temporarily, but they'd stop working or kill her eventually. While she's with us we can keep her under control, and she's making progress. She hasn't hurt anyone human since she joined us, and she's killed nearly a hundred vampires and demons."

"That's comforting."

"It should be. Look, I'm not going to tell you the situation's perfect, but it's the best we can do."

"Okay. It's your problem, I'll leave you to handle it."

"Thanks," said Willow. "Kennedy, would you take her forward and keep an eye on her? I think it's best if she rests as long as possible. You'd better rest too, we've got that vamp nest to deal with tonight." Kennedy effortlessly lifted Dana and carried her to the front seats.

"Okay," said Jack. "Excitement's over. Getting back to her dream, you said it began about three months ago?"

"That's right," said Willow. "About a week before the first attack. We've been waiting for someone to find the bodies, when they did we got Riley and his friends to find out who you were and get in touch with you. He was impressed, says you were already well on the way to finding us. How did you do that anyway?"

"When we searched the Winnebago we found a bottle of pills with Tara Maclay's name. That led us to the commemorative fund you set up, and that led us to you."

"Oh... yeah, I guess that'd work. Did you find anything else belonging to Tara? I lost nearly everything when Sunnydale was destroyed, all I've got is a couple of photos."

"I don't think so... but we've got someone's toy pig."

"You've got Mister Gordo?"

"Mister Gordo?"

"He belongs to a friend."

"Would that be Buffy Summers?" asked Sam.

"How did you know that? Did Riley mention her?"

"Phone records. We had your address in Sunnydale at the time the town was destroyed, the subscribers listed for that address were Joyce and Buffy Summers. The pig had the initials 'BS' on the label."

"Oh, you're _good_," Willow said admiringly. "Joyce died a couple of months before Glory made her move. Mr. Gordo belongs to Buffy. We never could figure out where he'd gone, I thought my cat had hidden him or something. Someone must have brought him along when we were running from Glory. Buffy'll be pleased to get him back."

"I'll bring him next time we meet."

"That'd be good."

"Is Buffy a Slayer?" asked Jack.

"She's the oldest living Slayer, until last year she was the only one... well, one of two, but that's another long story."

"Is that why the Key was sent to her?" asked Sam.

"Yes... hey, I didn't tell you that!" she said indignantly.

"Wasn't hard to guess."

"You really are good at this. Okay, I guess that's about it. If the dream comes true a lot of people are gonna die. It might be something we can handle on our own, but Dana seems sure that you're gonna be involved, and that it's gonna happen soon."

"When she's conscious," said Sam, "ask her to describe the buildings where the fight takes place. Anything she can remember, things like the names of shops, license plates on cars, that sort of thing. If you can get enough detail we may be able to identify the location."

"We've been working on that. Here's what we've got, from Dana and the others who have had the dream." Willow handed Sam five pages of notes. "Trouble is that they all describe it a little differently, I think some of it comes from the different cultures, or it's just possible that we're talking about more than one attack."

"That's a nasty thought," said Jack. "Okay, I'll get it to our intelligence analysts, see if we can narrow it down."

"Apart from that our main need is more information on the Knights of Byzantium. There must be some way to track them down, they had a whole little army out there, with everything from bows and swords to horses and a couple of minor-league wizards. They must have got them here somehow. If we'd thought of it at the time I would have tried to trace them, I guess it's a little late now."

"Horses?"

"Yeah. That's how they were chasing the Winnebago, on horseback."

"Horses. Riiight."

"There may be links to them through the Orthodox Church," said Daniel. "I know a few scholars in that field, I'll put out feelers."

"We've been trying that," said Willow. "Not much success."

"We may have different sources."

"And there are all sorts of laws about transporting animals," said Jack, "we may find something that way. Anything else, or are we done?"

"Give me some contact details," said Willow. "Here's my cellphone number, we'll need to stay in touch. And next time we meet, bring the pig."

"Okay."

They began to get up, Sam and Jack supporting Teal'c.

"Willow," said Kennedy, as they moved towards the exit, "aren't you forgetting something?"

"Am I?" asked Willow.

"The apology."

"Oh yeah." She turned back to Jack. "I need to apologise for dragging you into this. We try not to involve anyone that isn't already.. um.. involved with the supernatural, if you see what I mean, sometimes we just can't avoid it. But you've gotta understand, this stuff is _dangerous,_ and we're kinda putting you at risk by getting you into it. I hadn't realised someone would be hurt this soon, but it's always risky."

"It's okay," said Jack. "It's different. Interesting."

"Hope you'll still think that if it turns out to be demons behind it all."

"We'll just have to see how it goes."

They climbed down. Willow let them out of the gate, then went back into the bus, while the team headed towards their car.

"How are the ribs?" asked Jack.

"They will mend. Fortunately I am not dependent on a symbiote. If I were it would be dead, and I am sure that Dana would have killed me. I felt her feeling for it before Willow Rosenberg stopped her, if she had found one I think she might have proceeded to rip out my heart."

"I've never seen a human move that fast," said Daniel, "except for the time we tried those armbands Anise gave us."

"How strong was she?" asked Sam. "Jaffa strong? Felt like it to me."

"Stronger, I believe. If the other Slayers are as strong they would be formidable fighters."

"Okay," said Jack. "We'll get this stuff faxed to Colorado. At the same time let's check out Dana, last name unknown, escaped from an institution some time between May 2003 and three months ago, and Kennedy, no other name or details. Give them as much as you can on appearance, age, and so forth. And see what else we can find out about Summers and Rosenberg. We still have no idea what Rosenberg patented, if the college didn't get it wrong, and I'd really love to know if whatever happened to the Wolfram and Hart offices was connected. Oh, and run a trace on the cell number she gave us, and any numbers it calls or that call it, see if that tells us much...."

Aboard the bus Willow borrowed Kennedy's cellphone and said "Giles, they just left. Looks like they're gonna be helpful, but we'd better make sure we know exactly where they're coming from. I'll look into it as I get time, maybe you could get Andrew and Dawn to check too. We saw the three Riley told us about. Not much to add except that the archaeologist spoke ancient Egyptian, said something that triggered one of Dana's flashbacks. When Dana comes round I'll try to find out exactly what he said. There was also a guy called Teal'c, spelling unknown, also known as Murray, Riley didn't tell us about him. He's black, looks human but isn't, from what he said I'd guess some kinda servant or warrior demon. There's a cavity in his belly, about fist sized, looks like it closes with four triangular flaps. Dana attacked him, hit him there, got the impression she knew what he was and knew how to kill him... no, I took her out before anyone was hurt too badly. Anyway, I think that there is normally something in there, he said he was different from most of his kind. He called himself a Jaffa... yes, like the oranges and the city... I'm guessing it's not a human language." Kennedy whispered something to her, and she went on "oh, and he mentioned something called tretonin, I think a drug of some sort, sounded like it was pretty powerful. He said his kind served false gods, and they seemed to think there might be some connection to the Knights. He had a kinda gold plastic tattoo on his forehead, not the same as the ones the Knights wore, but that doesn't prove much... yes, we're being careful. Okay, pass on my love to Buffy and Dawn... yeah, talk to you soon. We're gonna have to get moving, got some vamps to take out..."


	9. VIII

Sam looked up from her computer, waited for Jack to finish his phone call, and said "I've found Rosenberg's patent, Sir. Not exactly what we expected."

"Not a death ray?" asked Jack

"Hardly. It's an automatic tuning device for electric guitars, patented by Rosenberg and someone called D. Osbourne in 1999. Must have been when she was in high school. Used by Gibson and three other companies in their high-end guitars."

"Anything unusual about it?" asked Daniel, from behind a stack of books about Byzantium and the Holy Roman Empire.

"It's computer-controlled. Nothing too unusual, but if it works the way they say it must be very efficient code."

"How about you, Jack?" asked Daniel. "Getting anywhere with your contacts?"

"A few people seem to have heard of Finn, but nobody knows much about him. General agreement that he's NSA, nobody's sure what department or grade, probably counter-terrorism black ops, and there's an odd story about his wife being his superior officer."

"That _is_ odd," said Sam, "but I guess that whoever he really works for must allow it."

"I got the impression that they're not too worried about rules," said Daniel. "They said that Rayne was some kind of criminal, I don't think he'd pass any normal security check."

"Did you learn anything of the young woman?" asked Teal'c, coming in from the gymnasium.

"Dana?" asked Daniel.

"Yes."

"Not so far," said Sam, "But I'm waiting to hear back from General Hammond. He's asking the FBI. Why are you so interested in her?"

"She appears to be our best source of information on the impending attack, it would be good to know more of her reliability. And anything that she can tell us of the defeat of the Goa'uld, of course."

"Dana escaped from an institution and tried to rip your heart out, I somehow doubt we're going to hear that she's a stable law-abiding citizen."

"What about the stuff Willow gave us?" asked Daniel. "Still no idea where it might be?"

"NSA... the real NSA... is trying to match it to a real location. It's all pretty vague, about all we can be sure of is that it's somewhere with a predominantly Caucasian population and at least one shop with a Coke sign. That could be Europe, the USA, Canada, plenty of other places. They're going to fax over a list of questions that might give them more of a lead."

"What's our cover on this?" asked Jack.

"One of our pilots has a head injury and partial amnesia."

"That's a little thin, isn't it?"

"Do you really think the NSA don't know what we do?" asked Sam.

"Not officially."

"They know," said Sam with total conviction. "Just think of all the foreign traffic there must have been about the Stargate over the last couple of years. They'd soon find out from that, if they haven't been briefed for any other reason."

"I guess."

"Someone in the Department of Agriculture is working on the horses. I don't think that's going to go anywhere, there are just too many moving legitimately."

The fax machine beeped then began to print a stack of pages. Jack picked up the first and read: "'What side of the cars are the steering wheels? Which side of the road do the cars drive on? What colour are the street signs...' That's pretty thorough, I guess, but it's going to take a couple of hours to ask all this."

"We'd better see if we can catch up with Rosenberg," said Sam. "See if she'll give us access to Dana and that other woman... um.. Kennedy."

"Didn't she say that they were going to take out some vampires last night?" asked Daniel, "they may still be busy with that."

"I'll call her."

"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Jack, leading the way along a Silverlake apartment block corridor just after one.

"Certain, Sir," said Sam. "Why?"

"It looks so... well, so normal. Here we are, apartment 212." He rang the bell. There was a short pause, then they heard a muffled voice shout "I'll get it" and the door opened. Kennedy let them in. She wore casual clothes, jeans and sneakers and a loose t-shirt.

"Willow's just getting dressed, she'll be a couple of minutes."

"Late night?" asked Jack.

"Late morning, we didn't get to bed until five or so. Can I get you something? Cold drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee would be good."

"Okay. Dennis, could you get some coffee please." There was no reply.

"Dennis?" asked Jack.

"He's our flatmate," said Willow, coming in from another room, "really helpful guy. Dennis, make mine a tea please." Again there was no reply. "Sit down, it'll just be a few minutes."

"I hate to have to ask," said Jack, sinking into a soft couch, "but can Dennis be trusted to keep quiet about anything he hears?"

"Don't worry," said Kennedy, "he'll be as quiet as the grave." Willow giggled, and Sam wondered what they were missing.

"Behave," said Willow. "Okay, you've got some questions for us?"

"For Dana mostly."

"Dana's exercising right now. She ought to be finished in a few minutes."

"Exercising?" asked Teal'c.

"We wanted to be sure that she wouldn't freak out and attack you again, so she's going through some relaxation katas. You must have made good time on the freeway, we thought she'd be done before you got here." There was an awkward silence, then Jack remembered something and reached into a bulging pocket, pulled out Mister Gordo, freshly washed, and offered him to Willow.

"Hey, Gordo," said Willow, "missed us much? Soon gonna be back with Buffy." She plopped him down in the centre of the table.

"This is a nice apartment," said Sam. "Renting it?"

"A friend of mine from Sunnydale used to live here," said Willow, "but she.. well, she died a few months back. When I checked a couple of weeks ago it was vacant again so I've got it on a three month lease, that ought to be time to clear up this mess."

"Why would it be vacant?" asked Daniel. "It's a nice apartment, and an excellent location."

"It's kinda haunted," Willow said casually, "and he drives off tenants he doesn't like."

"Haunted?" repeated Jack.

"Yeah." A tray floated in with cups and saucers, jugs of milk and cream, some slices of lemon, sugar, and a plate of cookies, landing on the coffee table beside Mr. Gordo. "Thanks, Dennis."

"What the hell?" said Jack. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Sam and Daniel looked as surprised as he felt, while Teal'c was as impassive as ever.

"Don't worry," said Kennedy, "he's a good guy." A sheet of newspaper floated in, and Jack felt his feet lifting from the floor as the newspaper went underneath them. "Maybe a bit too house-proud. Dennis," she said reprovingly, "his boots aren't even dirty!"

"I have read of ghosts," said Teal'c, "but I have never seen one before."

"You won't see one now," said Kennedy, "he's invisible and intangible except he can move things, not quite sure how he does it."

"I'm thinking of taking out a long-term lease," said Willow. "He seems to like us and it'd be a shame to leave him on his own again."

"I think he likes watching us," said Kennedy. "I'm pretty sure he's come into the bedroom a couple of times."

"And that doesn't bother you?" asked Sam.

"For a few months before Sunnydale was destroyed there were about twenty of us living in one house, think we got over worrying about privacy. And he's not exactly going to be talking about anything he sees."

"I thought you lived in Rio," said Sam, "Why keep an apartment here?" An insulated coffee pot and a China tea pot floated in and landed on the table. Willow thanked Dennis and Kennedy began to pour.

"We're in LA often enough that it might just about work out cheaper than hotels," said Willow, "Besides, there are plenty of friends that can use it when we're not here."

"Won't Dennis scare them off?"

"Not _our_ friends..." She sipped her tea.

"More Slayers?" asked Jack.

"That's right, and the people who work with them."

Dana came in wearing training clothes, said "I need to shower," and walked out through another door.

"Um," said Willow. "I guess that's a good start."

"Really?" asked Daniel.

"She didn't hit Murray," said Jack, "I guess we can call it an improvement."

"So tell me, Colonel," said Willow, "how does someone like you get assigned to work on a TV show?" The coffee Jack was swallowing went the wrong way.

"TV show?" Sam asked as innocently as she could.

"Wormhole X-Treme."

Jack spluttered then said "I think I pissed my general off, so he gave me the worst job he could think of for a couple of weeks. How did you happen to hear about it?" He tried to keep the question casual.

"We like to know who we're dealing with, and the geek we asked to check you out remembered seeing your name in the credits for a couple of episodes. Tell me, what was Yolanda Reese like to work with?"

"Yolanda Reese?" asked Jack.

"Plays Stacy Monroe. The scientist. She's kinda hot." Kennedy looked slightly annoyed at that.

"Oh, right, her." Jack searched his memory, then said "She seemed pretty bright, from what I saw of her. Kept asking questions about the science of the show, made a lot more sense than the guy directing it."

"That wouldn't be hard," said Willow, "fifty-odd episodes, and they still haven't worked out that a wormhole would have to be one-way."

Jack shrugged and feigned casualness as he said "Far as I'm concerned they can go any way they like. It's their show. All I was there for was military advice."

"I'm sure that Major Carter could have set them straight," said Willow.

"Uh..."

"You have an impressive resume, Major," said Willow.

"You've been checking us out, of course," Sam said calmly.

"Well yeah. Same as you've been checking us out. Nice try on Dana, but you won't find the records."

"Why not?"

"Some evil lawyers pulled them, thought they could use her for their own purposes."

"Wolfram and Hart?" asked Jack. Anything to change the subject.

"You've heard of them?"

"We've heard of one of their clients. Warren Mears. When he vanished after the death of Miss Maclay they tried to get the warrants cancelled, we think he had them on retainer."

"Oh.. I wish I'd known that, I would have helped to bring them down."

"We were thinking you might have," said Sam.

"No... missed my chance to get involved in that one. It was some friends of ours, did a Sampson act, brought them down from within. Literally, as it turned out. They had us completely fooled, we thought they'd gone over to the dark side. It's too late to apologise now."

"When you say evil lawyers," said Daniel, "what's your definition of evil?"

"Owned by various demonic forces, actively working to bring about the Apocalypse, that kinda thing. They're big-time evil, branches in hundreds of dimensions. We're lucky that this isn't one of the ones where they run the government or the religions. Not yet anyway." For a moment she looked pessimistic.

"It's hard to believe," said Jack.

"We think they missed their big shot here and lost a lot of power, with luck it'll take them a few years to get back into the game."

Dana returned as they were still digesting that, and stood watching Teal'c impassively.

"Dana," said Willow, "better sit down and grab some coffee before it's all gone." She patted the couch beside her.

Dana sat and poured a cup, still watching Teal'c, almost without blinking, and with her other hand picked up Mister Gordo and put him on her lap.

"Miss Dana," said Teal'c, "I know that you remember the actions of my ancestors and those they served. I and others like me have rebelled against the..."

_"Enough lies, Jaffa,"_ Dana said in ancient Egyptian. _"Betray us and I will send your head to your demon masters."_

_"He's telling the truth,"_ Daniel said in the same language. _"The rebel Jaffa no longer serve the Goa'uld."_ Switching languages, he added "Perhaps we should continue in English. The others don't understand what we're saying."

"Oh," said Willow, "Dana kinda gave us the background. Except we thought those Gold.. sorry, Goa'uld... guys had been chased into another dimension until we took a look at your resumes."

"What do you think now?" Jack asked cautiously.

"That Wormhole X-Treme isn't just fiction. What happened, you had a security leak and decided to cover it by pretending it was a TV show?"

They stared at her.

"C'mon, guys, it isn't hard to figure out. Whatever those Goa'uld guys were, they were bad news. They made it into some of the demon guides and our oldest records. They killed a few Slayers, there's reason to believe that they wiped out a couple of demon races, ones that weren't good enough at covering their tracks. Then some kinda rebellion drove them out. Then nothing, but a few thousand years later you guys are still looking out for them. An archaeologist, an astrophysicist, special ops guy, and someone who matches the servitors mentioned in our records. My guess, reading between the lines, is that the Goa'uld are still out there somewhere on the other side of a wormhole."

"Um..." began Jack.

"It is pointless to lie," said Teal'c.

"Okay. Yeah. They still exist."

"They are false gods," said Teal'c, "and they enslave many worlds."

"Holy crap!" said Willow.

"Why are you so surprised?"

"C'mon, guys," said Kennedy, "did you think it was the only explanation we thought of? All sorts of other possibilities. I was rooting for time travel."

"But you said..." began Daniel.

"I was bluffing," said Willow. "Thought you'd deny it and tell us a little more."

"Oh _crap."_ said Jack. "Do you realise just how much trouble we're in?"

"Don't be silly," said Willow. "This is barely a five on the weirdometer, and we're not exactly advertising the stuff that scores eight or nine. Your secrets are pretty safe with us." Jack didn't look convinced.

"How high does the scale go?" asked Daniel.

"Eleven, of course." Willow smiled. "Okay, let's get to business. Dana, are you okay to answer some questions?"

Dana put down the cup and began to stroke Mr. Gordo. "Yes."

"How about you, Kennedy?"

"Go ahead."

"Okay," said Sam, pulling out the questions and a pen. "Our guys have tried to come up with some questions that'll help to pin down where and when the attack will happen. There's a lot of them, so please be patient."

"Patient?" said Dana, seeming to consider it. "Yes."

"Okay, the first page or so concerns things that were mentioned as being around in the dream. Now the first thing is the cars. Can you remember what side of the cars the driver sat...."


	10. IX

"You know," said Daniel, listening to Sam and Jack question Dana and Kennedy, "We've heard a lot about the supernatural in the last few days, but we really haven't seen much. One conjuring trick and one ghost."

"You _want_ to see the supernatural?" asked Willow. "Most people run away screaming."

"It's... different. Then there's this group memory thing you mentioned. There are so many questions that could be answered. Just the memories of ancient Egypt that Dana mentioned could solve a dozen different puzzles. And you said you have written records going that far back?"

"Sure. Mostly copies of copies, of course, and some of them are translations of translations, but we've got them. Our big problem is usually finding the ones that are relevant."

"Could they not be stored as computer files?" asked Teal'c.

"Some of them, sure, the ones that aren't magical one way or another, but unless you read every word you don't always know for sure. And spells do strange things to computers."

"Like?" asked Daniel

"Oh, say, release the demon Moloch into the internet."

"Huh?"

"Happened in high school. Not one of my happier memories."

"Maybe we could come to some sort of arrangement," said Daniel. "Share documents, that sort of thing."

"About these Goa'uld guys?"

"Exactly. You might have information on them, we might have information you need."

"Maybe, but Dana probably knows more about them than all of our records put together. Everything we knew about them said they'd been extinct for thousands of years, so preserving what we had probably wasn't high priority. Especially when our main archive was blown up a couple of years ago."

"Blown up?" asked Teal'c.

"The thing we were fighting when Sunnydale was destroyed decided that taking out the Watchers would cripple us, it was nearly right."

"What are Watchers?" asked Daniel.

"The Watchers Council, the guys that were supposed to support the Slayer." She said it disdainfully. "Their offices and archives were in London. Bunch of jerks."

"Jerks?"

"Somewhere over the last few thousand years they got the idea that their job was to control the Slayer, that she was less important than their organisation. They had a bunch of rules and traditions, made the Slayers so inflexible they could barely function."

"But you said..."

"Buffy slipped through the net. They didn't find her until after she had the power, and she kinda took over, made them back off and let her do things her own way. When their offices were destroyed she was already pretty much running things, now she's rebuilding the organisation with the Slayers in charge. But we're really hurting from the records we lost."

"She must be a remarkable woman."

"You'd better believe it."

"Perhaps we can indeed help, WillowRosenberg," said Teal'c. "The Goa'uld repeatedly raided this world for slaves over thousands of years, and took them to many other planets. It is possible that some of those transported carried records that might be useful to you."

"Maybe. Or they could have written down their legends, even that might be useful."

At the table Sam said "I think that we might have enough to start another search. Let me type it into my laptop and I'll get it uploaded. Is there an a phone line I can use?"

"There's broadband," said Willow. "the modem's in the corner next to the TV. There's a phone line too if you don't want to use our ISP." Sam began to type in the results, asking Kennedy and Dana for clarification of some of the points as she did so.

"About the records," said Daniel, "if you can tell us what to look out for, maybe we already have material you need."

"I'll get you a list of key words; demon and magician names, the names of important magical books, things not to say, that kinda thing."

"Things not to say?" asked Jack, stretching.

"Like... well, like there are some books you shouldn't read out loud, and you really don't want to use the W-word around strange women. That kinda thing."

"The _W-word?"_

"Wish. Most of the creatures that grant wishes aren't friendly," said Willow. "Vengeance demons especially, and they're nearly all women. They tried to head-hunt me a couple of times."

"Head hunt?" asked Teal'c. "Why would they want your head?"

"Head hunt. Recruit. They wanted me to become a demon."

"Is that possible?" asked Daniel

"Sure. There was a woman we knew," Willow said sadly, "she started out human, used a few spells on an unfaithful lover, became a vengeance demon for a thousand years or so, then she lost her powers and became human again."

"What happened to her?"

"She ended up on our team, didn't make it out of Sunnydale. But there are demons that can infect you, take over your body, that kinda thing, and usually it's permanent."

"Parasites like the Goa'uld?" asked Jack.

"Some like that, some more like diseases, some that kill you and take over your corpse, like vampires, and some that reanimate you after you're dead, like zombies."

"Nice. What about the rest of the stuff you see in horror movies?"

"It's pretty much all real."

"Freddie Kruger is real?" Daniel and Teal'c team stared at him. "Hey, I watch TV sometimes," he added defensively.

"A few years ago someone tried to kill Buffy, me, and a couple of our friends in our dreams. We got lucky, Buffy broke us free before it was too late."

"Werewolves?" asked Jack.

"Knew one in high school. He was a nice guy most of the month." Sam paused, listening.

"Mummies?"

"Don't know about the Egyptian kind, but an Inca one turned up in Sunnydale pretending to be an exchange student."

"Leprechauns?"

Willow shivered and said "We used to think they were mythical, found out the evil little bastards were real a couple of months ago."

"You're kidding," said Jack.

"Wish I was. You name it, it's out there somewhere."

"Santa Claus?" asked Teal'c.

"Yep."

"Santa Claus is _real?_" asked Daniel.

"Sure. Of course he was more into eviscerating kids than giving them presents. Damned if I know how that story got started. Makes me glad I was born Jewish."

"You make it sound like the world's full of monsters," said Sam.

"Sure. But they're outnumbered a few thousand to one by humans. Most of them keep a low profile, even Santa probably didn't get more than three or four kids a year."

"Didn't?"

"Won't know for sure until December, but we think we took him out last Christmas. Made some fake babies, animated magically with a spell to lure him to them and packed with incendiaries."

"Sweet!" Jack said appreciatively.

"But the point is you're a hundred times more likely to get killed by a drunk driver. Vampires are probably the most active predators, and even then you rarely find more than a few outside the biggest cities."

Sam returned her attention to the computer.

"What about LA?" Jack asked.

"Hundreds, same for all the other major demon species. All the night life, it's like an all-you-can-eat buffet."

"So can we see something?" Daniel repeated.

Willow gestured, and a book flew from one of the shelves into her hand. "Sure. I could summon a demon or two, if you've got a pint of goat's blood handy. Not saying I could necessarily control them once they're here, of course. Or... I know, I could turn one of you into a rat, that's a fun one for parties. Or I could destroy Los Angeles, but I'd need a few human sacrifices for that one." Her eyes were darkening, and Daniel and Teal'c watched her warily. Kennedy said "Willow, honey, calm down. He was just asking. He didn't know."

Willow seemed to relax a little, and her eyes went back to their normal green. "Yeah, I guess."

"What was that about?" asked Jack.

"How would you react if someone asked you to throw a few hand grenades or set off a nuke, just to show what they could do?"

"It's that dangerous?"

"It's worse. It's... you know what positive feedback is?"

"When a PA system howls?" asked Jack.

"That's it. It's powerful, and it's difficult to control, and the more you use it the more powerful and difficult to control it gets. Oh yeah, and it's addictive, so the more you use it the more you want to let it rip."

"Oh." said Daniel.

"Don't worry though, I'm pretty much under control. Most of the time."

"That's reassuring," said Jack, raising his eyebrows.

"There's a lot worse than me," said Willow. "Relax, we've got more immediate problems to worry about."

"Fine. Any luck with our friends in Washington?"

"Negative so far, Colonel," said Sam. "The descriptions don't match anywhere they have on record. Not here, not Europe, anywhere there's a predominantly European population. They think maybe the USA, but nowhere seems to have the layout of streets described."

"Have they tried Canada?" asked Daniel.

"Sure, but that's much lower probability."

"Maybe it isn't a real place," said Kennedy. "Could it be a film set or something? Didn't feel like it when I dreamed it, but I could be wrong."

"What about you, Dana?" asked Willow. "Did it feel real in your dreams?"

_ "Konechno ehto real'noe!"_ said Dana.

"What?"

"She said 'Of course it's real,'" said Daniel, "in Russian."

"Russia...." said Jack. "Daniel, don't they have a branch of the Orthodox church in Russia too?"

"Sure."

"Okay. Major Carter, ask our friends to check for a match on the Charm School. They'll know what I mean." Sam nodded and typed the query into the laptop.

"The Charm School?" asked Willow.

"The old KGB spy school near Borodino," said Jack. "They had a big chunk of fake town built to look like parts of the USA. It's supposed to be closed now, but it wouldn't surprise me if they were still in business. It was a lot more authentic than any film set, real streets and real buildings. We ought to have overheads and descriptions of the place."

"Positive match," said Sam.

"Damn. I hate dealing with Russian bureaucracy."

"That part," said Willow, "you can leave to us." She got a mobile phone, pressed the speed dial button, waited a few moments and said "Dawn... the site is in Russia, near Borodino. We'll need to get in discreetly, don't want to tip off anyone that we're coming.... yeah, we're still at Cordy's old place... uh huh... okay, yeah, I know where that is... four of them, three of us... sure, I'll do that... yeah, say hi to everyone for us, talk to you soon." She pressed 'disconnect' and closed the phone. "Okay, Dawn's gonna set something up for us, but it'll take a couple of hours and we can't take much in the way of supplies. Everyone want to come?" There were six replies of "yes." She raised her voice slightly. "Dennis!" A spoon tapped against one of the cups on the table. "There you are. Dennis, Dawn says to say 'Hi', and I think maybe we could go for some more coffee and stuff if everybody's ready." There were nods, and the tray floated off towards the kitchen.

. . . . .

"Why does this look so familiar?" asked Daniel, as Jack parked his SUV behind Willow's car under a bridge in one of the channels of the Los Angeles River storm drain system.

"Ever see Terminator 2?" asked Kennedy, who was suddenly standing by the door, an axe in her hand.

"Uh.. yeah, I suppose."

"This is where the big truck with the Terminator crashed."

"Right. Umm... why the axe?"

"Because we're headed underground and there's some nasty things live there."

Sam, Jack, and Teal'c began to unload, and Daniel moved to help. Willow came over and said "When you're unpacked I'll cast a glamour, a kinda camouflage and avoidance spell, make sure that nobody tampers with the cars."

"Won't that be dangerous for you?" asked Jack, pulling out a back pack and strapping it on.

"Nope, it's not enough power to cause problems."

They moved to one side and Willow walked around the vehicles, chanting something softly. Slowly they began to look blurred, until he blinked, looked around, and suddenly realised that he couldn't see them any more.

"Where the hell are they?" asked Sam.

"You're kinda looking in the wrong direction," said Willow. "Squint and look off to your right and you might be able to get a glimpse of them."

Jack tried and for a moment saw the green SUV before the colour blurred into the background shadow. "That's a neat trick."

"So long as it doesn't rain. A flash flood through here could wreck them."

"I think it's safe to assume that the Air Force is insured," said Jack.

"Right. Okay, just follow Dana and me but leave the talking to me. Kennedy, bring up the rear. Okay?"

"We can take care of ourselves," said Jack. Suddenly he was rising into the air, as Kennedy lifted him by his backpack straps. "All right, so maybe you guys know the situation a little better."

"You're learning, Colonel," said Kennedy, putting him down.

"How the hell do you have the leverage for that sort of stunt?"

"Takes practice."

"I'll bet."

"And here's me without a video camera," muttered Daniel.

"Okay," said Jack, "we don't have much in the way of supplies, so what's the plan? We aren't really equipped to fight anyone."

"We'll go in," said Willow, "see what's happening, and get out again, if possible without anyone knowing we're here."

"Sounds good to me," said Jack. "But how are we going to get in."

"Through one of the demon dimensions," said Willow, leading them down another channel and into a massive tunnel.

"A _demon_ dimension?" asked Sam. "Won't that be dangerous?"

"Not really, we're on kinda good terms with them. Oughta be fine, just don't drink the water."

"Will we turn into demons?" asked Sam.

"No, but their sanitation is lousy, you don't want the trots."

There was a flurry of noise behind them, and the SG-1 team turned to see Kennedy fighting two men... no, two vampires, their faces were distorted, their mouths sporting huge fangs... in ragged clothes. While Jack was still drawing his gun she dodged a blow, feinted to the left, and plunged a stake into a vampire's heart. It seemed to explode into dust. Not wanting to risk a head shot in the poor light, Jack put two 9mm rounds into the other's chest; it staggered, but didn't seem to be slowed. Dana rushed past and used her axe to decapitate it. It collapsed into dust and the fight was over.

"Should have warned you," Willow said over the ringing in their ears, "guns aren't much use against vampires. They must have been down a side tunnel, or Dana would have felt them coming."

"We'd better get moving," said Kennedy, "noise like that attracts attention."

"Is it far?"

"Feels like about a half mile," said Willow.

They walked on in silence, eventually taking a side tunnel and climbing slimy steps to a steel door. "More vampires in there," said Dana.

"I know," said Willow, "but you'll have to leave them alone. This is neutral ground, there's an anti-violence spell. Okay, everyone, just follow my lead."

Willow knocked on the door, and a small hatch opened. A blood-shot eye looked out at them, and a muffled voice said "We're closed."

"No you're not. Rosenberg, party of seven. We have reservations."

_"Willow_ Rosenberg?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry..." There was a clatter of bolts and the door swung open. Standing there was something that looked vaguely like a man with mantis-like arms and claws. It bowed respectfully as they passed.

"They know you?" asked Jack, following Willow along a carpeted hall.

"Never been here before," said Willow, "but word gets around." They came to another door, which swung open as they approached, revealing a tastefully-decorated waiting room with soft Muzak playing. Several demons sat in the chairs, all of different species. Dana growled softly, and Willow quickly said "Take it easy. They can't hurt us, we can't hurt them."

"What happens if we try?" asked Daniel.

"You get back the injury tenfold."

A door at the far end of the room opened, and a blonde woman came out, saying "Frotsnig Glunt? Your portal's ready." One of the demons scurried towards the door, plainly anxious to put distance between itself and the Slayers. The blonde ticked something on a clipboard then looked up and shrieked "Willow?" and rushed towards them.

Willow hastily stepped back, and said "Hi, Harmony."

"You know this bitch?" asked Kennedy, stepping forward with a stake in her hand. Harmony stopped hastily.

"We were at school together," said Willow. She didn't sound very happy about it.

"That'd be before she was turned, I guess," said Kennedy.

"That's right," Harmony said happily, "only I'm totally like reformed these days. Only drink pig's blood."

"Really?" asked Sam, "Why's that?"

"All that chasing people around and biting them is so... icky." She seemed to shudder. "I got tired of killing guys I never would have even dated when I was alive, and having to dump the bodies afterwards."

"I heard you were working for Angel," said Willow, "didn't he kill vampires that tested positive for human blood?"

"Well yeah," Harmony said defensively, "but I was on the wagon before that."

"Well good for you," Willow said insincerely.

"That's what Cordy said," said Harmony, looking sad. "Anyway, according to this," she pointed at the clipboard, "you have a priority booking. Want to come through?"

"Thanks."

Ahead was a long room, at the far end a swirling vortex of white light. "Just walk into the light," said Harmony, "and try not to throw up on this side, I'll have to clean it up."

"Thanks," said Willow. Kennedy took the lead, followed by Willow, then Sam, Daniel, Jack and Teal'c. Dana took the rear, backing away from Harmony and only turning when they were about to walk into the portal. There was a brief moment of nausea, and they stumbled forward into a forest glade. A green-skinned demon with red eyes and horns, wearing a smart yellow suit so bright it hurt Jack's eyes, was sitting on a rustic bench and seemed to be waiting for them. It said "You the guys from Earth? Willow Rosenberg? That you?"

"Lorne?" said Willow, moving forward, hastily adding "hold it, guys, he's a friend." Several weapons went back into sheaths and holsters.

"That's right, sugar plum, heard you were coming through so I thought I'd meet and greet. Welcome to Pylea."

"Let me guess," said Jack, "another friend from high school?"


	11. X

"...haven't heard anything this side," said Lorne, leading the group along a trail through some remarkably creepy looking woods. "Last I saw of Angel, he was setting things in motion. I did my part of it then bailed out. I'd had enough."

"It's pretty much all we know," said Willow, "I felt things happening, but it took a while for me to pin down where it was..."

A few yards behind them, Jack tuned out the conversation and turned to Sam. "You really think we can get to Russia by walking a few miles through the woods?"

"Apparently there isn't a one to one correlation with our geography," said Sam. "No reason why there should be really. Can I ask something?" she added quietly.

"What's that?" Jack replied, just as quietly.

"Why are you going along with this? Why aren't we going through official channels, or at least preparing properly for the mission?"

"Think about it. What happens if we do things our way?"

"We get the job done."

"Maybe... but there's another side to it."

Sam thought for a moment, then said "They see how we handle things."

"Bingo. This way we're giving away as little as we can, and we're seeing a hell of a lot more of their operation. One thing I forgot to ask though," he added, in a more normal tone. "What about that entropic thing?"

"Entropic cascade failure?"

"Yeah, that."

"We ought to be through here in a couple of hours, and none of us exist in this dimension. There shouldn't be time for it to hurt us."

"Hurt?" asked Kennedy. "Why should you be hurt?"

"There are physical laws," said Sam, "quantum effects that damage anything that stays too long in another dimension."

"Don't sweat it," said Kennedy. "Some friends of Willow's spent a week here a couple of years ago, didn't come to any harm. And there was a girl that was stuck here for five years."

"That's impossible," said Sam, "even if there wasn't a single molecule in their bodies..."

"You're thinking science," Willow said over her shoulder. "Magic uses different rules. How long were you on Earth, Lorne?"

"About five years. I was kinda swapped for Fred when she came here."

"See what I mean?"

"I guess so." Sam didn't look at all happy about it.

"Where is Dana?" Teal'c asked from the rear of the party.

"Damn," said Kennedy. "How long's she been gone?"

"She dropped behind us about five minutes ago," said Daniel, "I thought she was just tired of ignoring me."

There was a sudden roar from up ahead, and something vaguely humanoid ran towards them.

"Drokken!" shouted Lorne, "Run for it!" He began to ran back though the group; Sam grabbed him and shouted "Stay with us, it'll pick you off if you're on your own."

In seconds everyone else had a weapon in their hands, from crossbows to carbines and a zat. "The fangs and claws are poisonous," said Lorne, recovering a little courage. "It's like a gorilla crossed with a gila monster."

"Okay," said Jack, putting a three-round burst into its head. It staggered, then roared and advanced towards them. "Any suggestions?" asked Sam, as Teal'c hit it with his zat without slowing it.

"Aim for the butt," said Lorne, "that's where the heart is."

"Okey-dokey," said Jack, aiming lower. Sam fired a burst of her own, while Kennedy put a crossbow bolt into it, about where the appendix would be in a human. It staggered again then collapsed. Kennedy cautiously approached it and cut off its head with her axe.

"Watch out," said Lorne, "they usually hunt in pairs. There'll be a female around somewhere."

Something rustled in the bushes to one side of the trail and they turned to see Dana dragging another corpse behind her. This one was missing its head and arms.

"That works too," said Lorne. "Usually takes a sword dipped in thrombite, but..."

"Are you okay?" interrupted Willow. "Did it hurt you at all? Even a scratch?"

"No," said Dana, dumping the corpse with the other. She stared at the Zat in Teal'c's hand.

"It is a weapon of the Goa'uld," said Teal'c, closing it and putting it away. "We have captured several." She stared at him for several seconds before turning away.

"Better get rid of the bodies," said Kennedy. "Leave them on this trail, there'll be scavengers by the time we come back."

"We'd better build a pyre," said Sam. "There's plenty of dry wood under the trees, but we need to make sure there isn't a forest fire."

"Don't bother," said Willow. _"Ignis"_ The bodies burst into flames, and in a minute or so were reduced to a pile of ash and bones.

"Willow..." began Kennedy.

"It's okay. Not gonna flip out and destroy the world just from doing that."

"Destroy the world?" Jack asked cautiously.

"I kinda lost it for a while when Tara was killed," said Willow, "if a friend hadn't talked me down... But I'm okay, really. That's one of the first spells I learned, it's pretty safe."

"Okay," said Jack, "We'll try not to get you too annoyed. By the way, don't piss off Carter. She blew up a sun once."

"A sun?" echoed Willow. Sam nodded. "Okaaay," said Willow. "No losing our tempers. I can relate to that."

"Can the Goa'uld do that?" asked Kennedy, "Could they zap _our_ sun?"

"We hope not," said Sam, "it isn't the right type of star, and we have.. well, not exactly allies, but there are some very powerful neutrals who are prepared to intervene if we're attacked that directly. Might not help us, but we think it's deterring the Goa'uld."

"Nice to know," said Willow. "I think that when this is over we definitely need to sit down and talk about this war. See what we can do to help you, maybe what you can do to help us."

"That'd be nice," said Jack. "Okay, how about we get moving again. There's still a way to go."

"We can take a pit stop soon," said Lorne, "my family's place, the facilities are a little basic but better than the woods. You really don't want to try our version of poison ivy."

"Thanks, know exactly what you mean."

They walked on for another fifteen minutes or so, Willow trying to keep up with SG-1 and the Slayers, then something loomed on the trail ahead. A huge hairy form, bloated and repellant.

"That's hideous," said Jack, drawing his gun. "Anywhere special I should aim?"

"If only...," said Lorne, then shouted "Hi, mom."

"Krelorneswath?" shouted the apparition, "You have brought fresh cows? That ridiculous law has been overturned?"

"No mom, they're my guests."

"Hah! The vile excrement returns with more of his cow friends." She turned and shouted over her shoulder. "Numfar! Do the dance of shame!" Further down the trail a distant figure began to caper jerkily.

"They're paying, mom."

Lorne's mother turned again and shouted "Numfar! The dance of Capitalist Supremacy."

"Hey, I know that one," said Willow, "Anya used to dance it with Dawn."

"Mom, will you try to remember that it's a socialist state these days?" said Lorne. "You really don't wanna say things like that too loudly!"

"Hah! Another thing we can blame on you and your cow friends!" She turned away and angrily waddled back the way she'd come.

"Family," said Jack. "Can't live with them, can't live without them."

"Why did you think I spent five years on Earth?" said Lorne.

"I'm still itching," Daniel complained an hour later, and another couple of miles toward their goal.

"Well yeah," said Lorne, "but nobody told you to slip into the pit of lice."

"It wasn't exactly sign-posted," grumbled Daniel.

"Don't worry," said Lorne, keeping a safe distance, "they're demon lice, not human. Most of the ones that sucked your blood must be poisoned by now. Just be glad it wasn't the pit of fleas, they _like_ humans."

"It still itches. Willow, can you do anything?"

"Not really," said Willow, trying not to giggle. "Don't you have some insect repellant or something?"

"Sure," said Jack, "if we were carrying full field gear. Not exactly standard issue for Los Angeles."

"Anywhere I can take a shower?" asked Daniel.

"Not unless you want to find out what our leeches are like," said Lorne.

"Never mind."

Eventually they stopped at a clearing that looked exactly like a hundred others they'd passed along the way, where more green-skinned Pyleans in hooded robes were waiting. Lorne talked to them in a language that none of the humans understood, then one of them gave him a length of silver chain with a dangling device that looked like a cross between a gyroscope and a compass, the "needle" a rod of dark crystal. He turned back to Willow and Jack and said "Okay. You want to link arms or hands or whatever, take hold of this thing, and walk forward until the bar points down and starts to glow. Then the gate'll open and land you in some woods about five miles west of the place you're looking for, or that's what the wizard says anyway. Once you're through you just go back to the same spot to return here, but you'll need to let things settle down a bit first. Give it at least three or four hours. I've gotta warn you, you didn't give us much time to get this organised, and Pylean Travel Inc. can't take any responsibility for any problems. Also, these guys don't actually like humans much, they'll do what you're paying for but they don't really care if you end up in a swamp or something. Any questions?"

"Why don't they like humans?" asked Willow.

"They used to be priests of the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart, Angel and the guys kinda wrecked their operation in this dimension. Anything else?"

"What happens if we aren't holding hands?" asked Sam.

"You could end up miles apart. That it?"

"I guess that's it," said Willow. "The gold's gonna be shipped through from London, and if you ever feel like visiting Earth again you're welcome to stay there or at our place in Rio. We're thinking of buying Cordy's old place too. Anyway, don't be a stranger."

"Don't think I want to drop by any time soon, Wolfram and Hart are still kinda active on Earth, but if you feel like a vacation on Pylea you know where to find me. Your friends too, of course."

"Uh, that's nice of you," said Willow, "but I could kinda live without the fleas and the lice."

"Don't be silly, I've got a condo that's to die for in town. Just because my family are hicks, doesn't mean I am."

"Thanks, maybe we'll take you up on it." Willow took the chain from him and gave him a brief hug; Lorne blushed darker than usual and kissed the top of her head.

"Thanks," said Jack, "It's been... um..."

"Uncomfortable and occasionally disgusting?" said Lorne.

"Took the words right out of my mouth."

"Better get moving," said Lorne, glancing at his Rolex, "I hate long goodbyes and it's gonna be dawn soon in Russia, I'd guess you're gonna want to find somewhere to hole up before sunrise."

Jack checked his watch and said "He's right. Let's get this show on the road."

"Everyone gather round," said Willow, "hold onto one another, try and keep as close together as you can. Is everyone set? Okay, move with me on the count of three. One..."

"Now _I'm_ starting to itch," said Kennedy, who was standing next to Daniel.

"It's your imagination," said Willow, "Two..."

"Actually I can feel them too," said Sam.

"Great," said Willow, "maybe we can boost some DDT while we're in Russia. And three..." She walked forward, and everyone else came with her, more or less in unison. At the fourth step the crystal flared white, and a disc of rippling energy formed under their feet. "Oh _crap!"_ said Jack as they fell through.

"Everyone all right?" whispered Jack once he had his breath back. It felt like they'd fallen about ten feet. There was a chorus of whispered replies. Everyone seemed to be okay. They were lying on hard dry earth and scrubby grass under a cloudy night sky, with a faint hint of dawn in the east. "Stay where you are while I get a GPS check." He switched on his receiver, checked the coordinates, and used a tiny flashlight to check the map that the NSA had faxed them.

"Okay," said Jack. "Good news and bad news. The good news is that we're about two miles from the Charm School. The bad news is that we're in the cleared fire zone around the school, if we try to head out we'll hit a minefield and barbed wire, if we head in we're gonna stand out like sore thumbs at daybreak. Any thoughts?"

"Move in," said Teal'c, "if we're fast we will reach shelter before we are detected."

"Sounds good to me," said Kennedy, "place that size, there's probably empty buildings."

"Willow?" asked Jack.

"I can give us a little protection, kinda like the glamour I used on the cars. Won't be much use in full daylight though."

"It's a plan," said Jack. "Okay, let's do it."


	12. XI

"Keep down," whispered Jack, crouching in scrubby bushes and watching the cluster of buildings through low light goggles. "Can't see any guards, doesn't mean they aren't there."

"I can hear some dogs about a mile away," whispered Kennedy, "sounds like they're on the other side of the place." Jack couldn't hear a thing.

"Okay," said Sam, "that fits in with a small caretaker force. Probably just a few soldiers to keep an eye on things, stop anyone stripping the furniture and plumbing supplies."

"I can stop people from seeing us until it gets brighter," murmured Willow, "not so sure about dogs smelling us."

"No problem," said Sam. "they'll be attack dogs, not trackers."

"I shall consider myself reassured," said Teal'c.

"I'm not," said Daniel.

"Okay," said Jack, "sun's rising on the far side, with luck their night vision won't be too good when they look this way. Head for the office building on the right. The ground's hard, but try not to leave tracks."

"What about the church?" asked Kennedy, "looks like you'd get a better view from there."

"Too good," said Jack, "This place was built by Communists, remember, not very religious, the church is probably the control centre. I think the steeple's a radio mast."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't sweat it, I was doing this when they were still the Evil Empire."

"Any Slayer vibes?" asked Willow. "Kennedy? Dana?"

"Not a thing," said Kennedy. Dana shook her head.

"Maybe we've got here before the Knights," said Daniel.

"Maybe we should get moving," Jack said, "or we'll still be stuck out here when they arrive."

They ran, crouching behind bushes and rocks. The Slayers moved completely silently, flowing from shadow to shadow like predators, and for a second Jack imagined taking a squad of them through a Goa'uld encampment. They wouldn't know what hit them. Willow moved quietly, but not as well as the Slayers or SG-1, and seemed to be muttering as she walked. Jack caught snatches of Latin, and guessed she was casting the camouflage spell she'd mentioned. Teal'c brought up the rear.

"Camera to the right pointed at the door," murmured Sam. "Willow, can your spell handle it?"

"Yeah, for a few minutes, the cameras will see us but anyone looking at the screen won't. We ought to be okay provided they don't play back the tape. Don't hang around getting inside, I can't keep it up for long."

"Don't let the camera get good shots of your faces," said Jack, "just in case."

"Door's locked," whispered Kennedy as they reached it. "Want me to bust it?"

"Better not," Jack replied, "Carter, check for alarms, if it's clean I'll try to pick the lock."

Sam examined the door and said "Looks like a magnetic reed switch, if we open the door it'll trip. I can handle it." She dug out a jack knife and pried off a strip of wood. There was a wire ending in a plastic cylinder underneath. In seconds she stripped the wires and fixed a tiny clip to short them together, then put the wood back to cover what she'd done. "Ought to be okay provided there's nothing else inside."

"Dogs are getting closer," said Kennedy. Dana cocked her crossbow and seemed even more alert than usual.

"Let's take a look." Jack produced a slim leather wallet and worked on the lock for twenty seconds or so, then pushed the door open a few inches and peeped inside. "Concrete floor, no pressure mat, no signs of a light beam alarm, we ought to be okay provided they aren't using ultrasonics or passive infra-red."

"No ultrasonics," said Kennedy. "or if there are they're higher pitched than dog whistles."

"Good to know." Jack gingerly pushed it open a little more, took a better look, and said "it's clean. Everyone inside. Teal'c, throw out some pepper as you come in, that ought to put dogs off the scent."

"Where did you get pepper?" Willow asked as Teal'c obeyed.

"We always carry some," whispered Jack, locking the door once Teal'c was inside. "They have tracking animals on quite a few worlds."

A minute later they heard low voices outside, a casual conversation. Daniel listened, waited for the voices to fade, then said "Talking about ice hockey."

"Really?" said Jack. "Anything interesting?"

"They both think Moscow are going to win the next championship."

"No way. I've got twenty bucks on St. Petersburg."

"What now?" asked Kennedy. "What is this place anyway?"

"The sign out back was Russian for 'Building 17 service entrance,'" said Daniel, "apart from that your guess is as good as mine."

"Any thoughts?" asked Jack.

"It smells... kinda stale," said Willow. "Like nobody's been inside in weeks. Months, maybe."

"Perfect. Okay, Major Carter and I will lead the way, everyone else stay back. I doubt that there are any more alarms, but you never know. Willow, I guess you can stop the spell now."

"Thank the goddess."

. . . . .

"This place isn't ideal," Jack said twenty minutes later, "but it could be a lot worst." They'd decided that the six-storey building had been accommodation for the teachers, but most of the furniture had been removed and there was no power. There was running water, though no heat, but fortunately the weather was warm. They'd set up camp in a third-floor lounge that still had a little furniture. More importantly, it had a South-facing window which would be useful for communications. "Don't drink the tap water without purifying it first, it smells like it's been standing for months and Russian water is always a little dubious. And no lights near the windows."

"So what's the plan?" asked Daniel.

"Let's just watch for a while, see if the Knights are here, I'll set up the satellite transmitter and see if Hammond or the NSA have anything more for us. Teal'c, take some binoculars upstairs, see if you can get onto the roof without being seen. Daniel, you and Carter had better listen in on the radio, see if there's any traffic that might interest us."

"Any chance I could shower first?" asked Daniel, "I'm still itchy."

"Sure. Make it a fast one, don't want the drains making too much noise. And don't drink the water."

"Okay."

"Willow," said Jack, "is there anything that you can do?"

"I'm doing it. When the Knights were chasing us they had a couple of magicians with them, I'm... I guess I'd say I'm feeling for them, see if I can sense anything like that around. Nothing so far."

"Would they sense you?"

"Hope not, my shields are up."

"Okay," said Jack. "Dana, Kennedy, does any of this look familiar?"

"Yeah," said Kennedy. "The shop with the coke sign is about two blocks that way" - she pointed North - "you can just see it from the top floor, and I'm pretty sure that the puke green car parked across the street was in my dream."

"Dana?" Jack repeated.

"They're coming. Soon."

"Any idea how soon?" Dana didn't reply.

"Wonderful."

"One thing," said Kennedy, "I haven't seen any kids around, none of the people I remember from my dream. I've seen a couple of guard patrols, and one guy who seemed to be servicing the street lights, but that's it." Dana nodded confirmation.

"Servicing the street lights?" repeated Jack. "They wouldn't be doing that while the place is mothballed. They must be planning to open up again."

"If they are," said Sam, "there's probably a good reason for it."

"I'll get on the phone, see if anyone knows anything. Keep listening on the radio, see if they say anything that sheds any light. Everyone, keep your eyes and ears open for anything that suggests that they've spotted us or are tracking our signal, it's encrypted and the beam is pretty tight beam but with the right equipment they might just pick it up."

. . . . .

"The NSA has just confirmed it," said General Hammond, "The Russians are re-opening the site as an intensive language training school for the troops they're sending to SGC. Full immersion in American culture."

"That's... interesting," said Jack, "sounds like they might be planning to slip in a few agents with the next group, to make sure we aren't keeping any secrets."

"It's possible. It's what we'd probably do in their shoes."

"Why didn't the NSA tell us before, General?"

"Apparently the information was compartmentalized."

"Wonderful. Any idea when the school reopens?"

"The staff and their families arrive on Monday, the school reopens on Wednesday."

"Okay, it's Thursday now, that gives us a minimum of four days. We can't hole up here that long. Sounds like we'd better wait until nightfall, then head back the way we came."

"I concur, Colonel. Once you're out we'll contact the Russians and warn them that their site may be targeted for attack."

"We'll check in when we're back in Los Angeles. O'Neill out."

"Colonel," said Sam, "I think they might be on to us."

"They picked up the satellite phone?"

"No, but they're talking about an intruder." She listened to the radio again then said "No, false alarm, it's not us, they're saying something about seeing binoculars reflected from the outer perimeter." She listened again then said "They're sending out a patrol to investigate."

"Warn Teal'c, they might start to look in as well as out."

"I'll tell him," said Kennedy, heading towards the stairs as Daniel came in, rubbing his hair dry, and said "Anything happening?"

"Could be trouble," said Sam. "They've spotted some intruders at the outer perimeter. Kennedy's warning Teal'c."

"Trouble?" asked Willow, coming in with Dana. Sam repeated the explanation. "Could be the Knights," said Willow.

"It'd be one hell of a coincidence," said Jack.

"They might have been there for a while. Some of them were in Sunnydale months before the big fight with Glory, poking around for the Key. Well, more like asking questions, beating up demons, getting killed by them, that kinda thing. Maybe they saw us arrive and wanted to know what we were up to. Were they somewhere they could have seen us?"

Sam listened to the radio then said "I don't think so. More to the North if I'm interpreting the coordinates properly."

"They still might have seen something. It would have been about as bright on this side as it was in Pylea. We're just lucky the guards didn't spot it."

"No. They're lucky," said Dana.

"Um... Dana, we don't hurt humans, you know that." Dana didn't respond.

"Is that part of being a Slayer?" asked Daniel.

"Yes and no," said Willow, "most Slayers hate the thought of hurting anyone human, and it kinda attracts attention if you start to leave bodies lying around, but they don't actually lose their powers or anything if it happens. There have been a few incidents."

"I would have thought that with super-strong girls that age there would be more than a few," said Sam.

Willow said "Let's not go there right now, it's kinda a delicate thing." She glanced at Dana.

"Okay," said Sam.

"Eight," said Dana.

"Eight what?" asked Daniel. Willow glared at him as Dana said "Eight people. I k-k-killed eight people." She stuttered on the last words.

"Did you have reason?" asked Jack.

"Y-Y-Yes." She didn't elaborate.

"Dana," Willow said gently, "I think we might be stuck here until nightfall. Do you want to get some sleep?"

"All right."

"Lie on the couch, then, and close your eyes. Sleepy-time." In seconds Dana was asleep.

"Post-hypnotic suggestion?" asked Sam.

"Yeah. She's gradually getting to where she can start to talk about it, but for the moment it's just upsetting her when she can't, when she starts to stutter. The best thing she can do when that happens is sleep, that kinda takes the edge off it."

"What the hell happened?" asked Jack. "You said she escaped from an institution. What did she do to get institutionalized?"

"You're asking the wrong question, I think," said Sam. "What was done to her?"

"She was kidnapped and saw her parents murdered when she was ten," said Willow, "then systematically tortured for months. Then institutionalised for ten years or so after she finally escaped."

"Did they ever find the bastard that did it?" asked Jack.

"The police killed him in a shoot-out five years ago," said Kennedy, coming in with Teal'c. "Didn't even know what he'd done, he was robbing a liquor store."

"Good," said Sam.

"Not really," said Kennedy, "we could have made it slower and a lot more painful."

"I've just been explaining why we don't do that," said Willow.

"Okay, so maybe he'd still be alive when we were done. He sure as hell wouldn't be hurting any more little girls."

"So the people Dana killed...?" asked Daniel.

"Mostly they got in her way when she broke out," said Willow. "Mostly. For a while every man she saw was the guy who'd kidnapped her. She's over that now, but... well, that's why there's always another Slayer with her, or someone like me who can handle her."

"Now you know," said Kennedy. "What do you plan to do about it?"

Sam and Daniel looked at Jack. He shrugged and said "About what? Far as I'm concerned we've been talking about the weather. Unless there's something we can do to help?"

"Doubt it, but thanks." Willow smiled, then turned to Sam and said "So, anything more on the radio?"

"They're searching the woods outside the wire. It's only been a few minutes, I'd guess they're still deploying."

"Okay," said Jack. "We'll take shifts on the radio. Anyone else speak Russian?" Willow and Kennedy shook their heads. "Okay, Daniel can take the next shift, then me, then Carter. Meanwhile let's see what else we can figure out about this place."

. . . . .

"They've caught three men," Jack said about three hours later, "wearing... what's that word... anyone know what kol'chuga means?"

"Chain mail," said Daniel.

"Damn," said Willow, "it is them."

"Or Jaffa," said Teal'c. "Though I doubt that Jaffa would be caught so easily."

"Our best lead in weeks," Willow said mournfully, "and we won't be able to get close to them."

"Actually," said Jack, looking at the map, "they'll be coming right past this building in twenty minutes or so if they're being taken to the church. We could take them if we played it right."

"That would be conspicuous," said Teal'c. "We would not be able to stay until nightfall."

"Anyone got trouble with that?" asked Jack.

"Fine by me," said Willow, "but we'd better hustle if we're gonna be ready to move." She went over to Dana and said "Rise and shine, sleepyhead."

Dana's eyes snapped open and she sat in one smooth motion. "The Russians have caught some Knights," said Willow, "We're gonna try to snatch them and head back to the portal. Get your things together, we might have to fight and we're sure as heck gonna have to run."

. . . . .

Until a second before the crash the Russian corporal thought the road was clear, then suddenly it was blocked by a green car. He slammed on the brakes, but couldn't stop in time. Inside the truck half a dozen guards were thrown forwards, along with their prisoners. A sword ripped through the canvas cover, just above their heads, and a dark-eyed girl with a blue tattoo on her forehead grabbed one of the guards and pulled him out before anyone had a chance to react. There was a loud thud, then the guards remembered their guns and moved to cover the hole. They were still looking that way when another sword cut the rear flap open and some rapid Zat fire took care of the others.

"Grab the Knights," said Jack, "Willow, you okay?"

"I guess." Her eyes were dark. "Make it fast, they're gonna notice they can't see the truck any more."

Dana came out carrying a Knight on her shoulder, followed by Kennedy and Teal'c, then Sam and Daniel with the Knights' weapons and supplies.

"Head round to the left then straight out towards the woods," said Jack, opening his GPS receiver, "Willow, if you can keep the truck concealed for a couple more minutes as we move it'll help."

"Okay..."

They were about half way to the portal when the alarm finally sounded. "Keep going," said Jack. "It'll take them a while to spot us, by then we ought to be out of here."

A hundred yards, and they heard shouts behind them. "Teal'c, Carter, rear guard," said Jack, "The rest of you keep moving."

Teal'c crouched behind a rock, waited for the pursuing troops to get a little closer, then fired over their heads. They dived for cover, and Sam gave him covering fire as he picked up the Knight again and ran towards the portal, then covered her as she in turn retreated. Sam noticed a hail of small rocks thudding down around the guards, and guessed that the Slayers were making their own contribution.

"Okay," shouted Jack, "this is the place. Willow, hit the gizmo."

Willow concentrated, and the glowing portal appeared again... about eight feet above the ground. "Oh crap," said Willow, as Dana threw her Knight up through it, then boosted Jack up into the glow. _"Thicken!"_ The air between the guards and the escapees seemed to ripple.

"Out of here, fast," said Kennedy. She and Dana threw the other Knights through the hole, helped Teal'c and Sam, then grabbed Willow's arms and leaped together. A second later the portal closed.

. . . . .

"Is Willow okay?" asked Sam, listening to the night noises of the Pylean forest and wondering what was out there.

"She needs to rest," said Kennedy, wiping the mascara 'tattoo' from her forehead and gesturing towards the tents SG-1 had set up. "Using that much magic without letting it take her over is difficult."

"But she'll be okay?"

"Sure. Just needs some sleep."

"How about Dana?"

"She's sleeping too. Willow told her to."

"But not you?" asked Sam.

"Demon dimension, remember. Makes it kinda difficult to relax. Come sunrise Lorne ought to be here, then we can head back to LA. Then I'll get some sleep."

"You'll be okay?"

"Slayers don't need much sleep, I'll be fine. Will Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c be okay with the Knights?" asked Kennedy.

"Relax, they're not going anywhere."

"I'm more worried about them killing themselves, or biting out their tongues."

"We checked them over; got a couple of suicide pills and some weapons the Russians missed. I've given them pretty heavy tranquillizer shots, that ought to keep them under control until the morning. Once we're in LA Colonel O'Neill can have an interrogation team ready in a few hours."

"Interrogation?"

"Kennedy... we're at war. It isn't quite the war you've been fighting, but there's a chance they're working with the Goa'uld. We can't take chances."

"I guess."

"What would you do if we weren't in the picture?"

"Oh..." Kennedy thought for a moment, then said "I guess we'd be trying to get them to talk too. Point taken."

Daniel came over with mugs of coffee, and said "It's never pleasant, but sometimes it has to be done."

"It's the part of being a Slayer I've never liked," said Kennedy. "Fighting things, killing monsters, that's okay. Hurting someone like the guy who hurt Dana, I think I could do it. But hurting someone just to make them talk, that's different, somehow. Even when it's a demon."

"Do all Slayers think that way?" asked Daniel.

"No. There are a few that are kinda into it, or at least can do it without worrying too much. I'm just not one of them."

"Dana?"

"Oh, she'd be into it, if we let her. There's a lot of the First Slayer in her."

"First Slayer?" asked Sam.

"A few thousand years ago a bunch of wizards took a girl and gave her the powers of a demon. Trouble was a lot of the demon personality came with it. Gradually the worst of it wore off, I guess the Slayer package got a little more human, but somewhere in the back of every Slayer's head there's... well, she's a savage, a predator. You wouldn't like her if you met her."

"And Dana remembers that?"

"We all do, sooner or later, in our dreams. But Dana..." Kennedy tapered into silence.

"She channels her?" suggested Daniel, sipping from his mug.

"She is her, sometimes. I've seen it a couple of times when she's been fighting. She rips through demons like a knife through butter, but if anyone else got in her way... well, it wouldn't be pretty."

"Is there no way you could take it away from her?" asked Sam.

"No. You're a Slayer until you die."

"That sucks."

"Sometimes. But saving a life, knowing you're saving the world, it makes up for it. For me, anyway, not so sure about Dana." Kennedy yawned.

"I know you can manage without it, but I think you should try to sleep," said Sam. "If the observations I made on the way in were correct the first sun rises in about four hours. Why not nap until then? We can keep watch."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," said Daniel. "We do this sort of thing a lot. C'mon, get some sleep, how else are we going to talk about you behind your back?"

Kennedy laughed, stretched, and went to join Willow in her tent.

"Every time I think the universe sucks," said Daniel, "something like that comes along to make me realise it's even suckier. What right did those bastards have to do that to those girls?"

"Arrogance, I guess," said Sam. "Any more coffee in the pot?"


	13. XII

"Well, this is interesting," said Jack, looking around after they'd dropped through the portal from Pylea. "Where the hell are we?" They were in a spacious lobby, its furnishings covered with dust sheets.

"It's the Hyperion Hotel," said Willow.

"I think I could have guessed the hotel part. Where is it?"

"An old hotel, used to be run by friends. We're in Los Angeles, but we're a long way from the cars. Wonder why Lorne sent us here?"

"Damn," said Kennedy, twisting the arm of one of the prisoners, who was making his fourth attempt to escape. "Stay put you moron, I don't want to break anything." He glared at her but said nothing. Dana held the other, who wasn't trying to struggle and seemed petrified with fear.

"Doesn't look like anyone's been here in a while," said Sam, gesturing towards the main doors. "There are some footmarks in the dust, but they aren't very fresh."

"That was us, a couple of weeks ago," said Willow. "We had an idea that our friends might hole up here after they took down Wolfram and Hart, but it looks like they didn't make it."

"How are we doing for time?" asked Kennedy. "I lost my watch somewhere in Pylea."

"You sure it was in Pylea?" asked Jack. "It might be awkward if it turned up in Russia. Speaking of which," he pulled his phone out of his pocket "I'd better check in with the General and arrange some transportation. What's the address?" Willow told him, and he went off to one side of the lobby and hit the speed dial.

"It's just after eighteen-thirty," said Sam, looking at her own watch. "Wait a second, it's locking onto a time signal... make that eighteen forty-two."

"Time must run at a slightly different rate in Pylea," said Willow. "It happens sometimes. In some of the Hell dimensions it's a few years for every hour that passes here."

"That could be useful if you needed to beat a deadline," said Daniel.

"If you don't mind being enslaved, tortured, and worked to death in a couple of hours."

"Could the time change be an entropic effect?" asked Sam.

"Doubt it's as simple as that," said Willow. "Too many other things stay the same."

"What about..." Sam began, then suddenly realised that Willow wasn't paying any attention. Neither were Dana or Kennedy.

Daniel started to say something, but Teal'c held a finger to his lips and pointed his staff weapon towards the door. Sam loosened her holster straps, and Jack said "call you back" and closed his phone. They listened as faint footsteps came along the path towards the entrance, keys rattled in the lock, and the door swung open.

"Who the hell are you?" asked the stranger, a blonde woman a little shorter than Sam wearing a green dress and carrying an overnight bag.

"Who's asking?" said Willow.

"I'm... I've seen your picture, haven't I? In Angel's office?"

"Maybe."

"Willow something?"

"That's right. Willow Rosenberg."

"I'm Nina Ash. I'm a friend of Angel's."

"You must be, if he gave you the keys."

"He said I should come here if I had to, and there's nowhere else to go." There was something in her voice, a hint of desperation, and she kept glancing at her watch.

"Willow," murmured Kennedy, "I'm getting a weird vibe off her."

"Okay," said Willow. "We don't know what's happened to Angel. Can we help?"

"Angel said I could use the cellar."

"The cellar?"

"There's a cage there. Angel said your boyfriend..."

"Oh _crap!_" said Willow. "How long until moonrise?"

"About five minutes," said Nina. "I got stuck in traffic."

"This way," said Willow, leading the way to some stairs. "Te... uh, Murray, better come along with your stun gun." Teal'c gave her a puzzled look but followed them down, his hand on his zat.

"What the hell was that about?" asked Jack.

"Werewolf, I guess," said Kennedy. "Willow used to date one, before she fell for Tara."

"I've got to see this," said Jack.

"Oh no you don't," said Kennedy. "She'll be stripping off before she rips her clothes apart."

"Okay... Shouldn't you be slaying her or something?"

"Not if she's caging herself. Something must have gone wrong with her usual arrangements, I guess."

"Angel..." said Daniel, "wasn't he the vampire Lorne mentioned? The one with a soul?"

"That's right," said Kennedy. "Never met the guy myself, but Dana did, I think."

"Hit me," said Dana. "Stopped me killing Spike."

"Well, we've all had _that_ impulse..." She was interrupted by a mournful howl from downstairs, followed by a dull metallic thud. A minute later Willow and Teal'c came into the foyer. "Everything okay?" asked Kennedy.

"She was out by a minute or so," said Willow, "but she was already in the cage so it didn't matter too much."

"She became a formidable beast," said Teal'c. "Fortunately the Zat was not required."

"Will she be all right down there?" asked Sam. There was another howl, and Teal'c shut the cellar door.

"It's a strong cage and believe me, nobody in their right mind will go anywhere near her, not even vampires. She's obviously done this before, she's got some blankets, a change of clothes and a flask of coffee for the morning, and a leg of lamb to eat overnight. She'll be fine. Would have been okay without our help, I think, if she'd found the cellar in time. I've left a card with our contact details with her stuff."

"How will she get out?" asked Daniel.

"Combination lock," said Willow, "Angel must have had it fitted. She won't be able to work it while she's a wolf."

"How come she's here?" asked Kennedy. "How come we're here, for that matter? Kinda weird coincidence."

"She says she nearly got out last night, didn't think the storage locker she's been using would hold her another night. As for why _we're_ here, there's been a couple of dimensional portals opened in this lobby, it may be a natural weak point. I'm not sure I'm buying the coincidence though."

"What do you mean?" asked Jack.

"Someone knew that she'd be here today and steered us towards her, I think."

"Lorne?" asked Sam.

"Maybe. Or the Powers That Be, it's the kind of crap they like to pull." She looked around a little angrily, as if expecting one of the Powers to appear. Nothing happened.

"Do you think Nina's important in this?" asked Kennedy.

"Doubt it," said Willow. "I'd guess it's more of a long term thing. They want us to look after her, keep her from going feral or something."

"Any way you can find out?"

"Sure, next time a higher being drops by I'll ask. Don't hold your breath waiting though."

"Know the feeling," said Jack.

"Really?" asked Willow.

"Sure. We've run into higher beings. You ask a question, nine times out of ten they don't answer, if they do you usually end up more confused than when you started."

"Sounds about right. What were they, aliens?"

"Usually we can understand aliens, they're shooting at us. But genuine higher beings, that's something else. Especially when they're trying to be helpful."

"I'll take your word for it," said Willow, "most of the stuff we run into is about as unhelpful as you can get."

"I'd better get back to the general," said Jack, "he's probably a little worried."

He went off a little way and finished the conversation, then said "After I called the first time he organised some Air Force Police to collect these guys. They ought to arrive in about ten minutes. Oh, and guess what?" He didn't leave time for anyone to guess. "The Russians have issued a Foothold..." He noticed a puzzled look from Willow "..that's a warning of possible enemy activity. Seems a couple of guys in chain mail with tattoos on their foreheads were caught at one of their secret facilities, then got sprung before they could be interrogated. The way they describe it, they vanished in a flash of light that might be a Goa'uld transporter. We've been asked to send a team to help with the investigation."

"Imagine that," said Kennedy.

"What have we told them, Colonel?" asked Sam.

"That we're getting a team ready, of course."

"If you like you can blame us," said Willow. "The Russians know about us."

"We might have to take you up on that," said Jack, "but for now we'll play it like we know nothing. It'll give us an excuse to send in an inspection team, check the place out and see if we can figure out why the Knights are interested."

"Sooner or later they'll check the camera tapes," warned Willow. "There may be someone looking already."

"You really don't mind carrying the can?"

"They won't be happy, but they know we get up to all sorts of weirdness. They needn't know you guys were there, we can say it was a Watchers Council extraction squad. That ought to confuse things nicely, especially if we get Riley to do the explaining."

"Didn't you say the Watchers don't exist any more?" asked Jack

"We're rebuilding," said Willow, "but we've kept kinda quiet about the specifics. The old council had its own little army, recruited from British special forces units, they'd be the guys for that sort of operation."

"Why should Finn do the talking?" asked Daniel. "Is he unusually persuasive?"

"No, but he's got huge amounts of soldier-cred all through that region, ever since his guys stopped Tunguska Two. Get him to show you the gold medal they gave him, it's kinda cool, like a pentagram."

"Gold Star Medal of the Hero of the Russian Federation?" asked Jack, while Sam said "Tunguska _Two?_"

"Don't ask," said Kennedy. "Object lesson in why some people shouldn't mess with magic."

"Andrew had good intentions..." Willow began, but was interrupted by the arrival of the police. It took about ten minutes to arrange everything, then Jack and Teal'c went off with the prisoners and their guards, while Sam and Daniel went to drive Willow, Dana, and Kennedy back to pick up the cars. In the cellar below the Hyperion Nina Ash prowled her cage for an hour so, howling and chewing on the meat she'd brought with her, then curled up in the blankets and went to sleep.

. . . . .

"They're not talking," Jack said the following morning. "Not even name, rank, and serial number. About all that we know is that they do speak English, and that they speak Russian with Ukranian accents when nobody's around. But so far all that they've done is say that they won't talk and tell each other not to talk."

Willow looked around the office SG-1 were using and said "You said you have special interrogation methods."

"We do," said Sam, "but they're risky and extremely painful. We need White House authorisation to use them, and right now the President isn't very happy with us."

"The Russians?"

"The Russians," confirmed Jack. "It isn't going to be a diplomatic incident, Finn apparently saw to that, but they know it was us."

"Crap."

"Oh, they're prepared to cooperate, but it's going to cost us somewhere down the line. We'll probably have to give them more access to the Stargate or something."

"Sorry."

"Can't be helped. Anyway, can you do something to make them talk?"

Willow looked at the floor, and Kennedy put a hand to her shoulder. After a long pause Willow said "You sure there's no alternative?"

"There are always alternatives," said Jack, "but they're sometimes illegal, also mostly slow and fallible."

"Okay. Get one of them, the guy that was scared of Dana. The darker guy with the moustache. He looked a little more impressionable." Jack dialled the guard house and gave the order.

"Where is Dana anyway?" asked Sam.

"Sleeping," said Willow. "Dennis is looking after her until we get back."

"Another spell?" asked Daniel. "is that good for her?"

"No," said Kennedy, "just really tired. She didn't sleep properly while we were in Pylea. Too much demonic activity."

"Can Dennis handle her if she wakes and decides to go for a walk?" asked Sam.

"No, but he knows how to get help if it's needed." There was another uncomfortable pause, then Willow said "When the guy comes in I'm the only person who can talk until I've done the witchy stuff. Once he starts talking it might be okay to whisper to me, but it'd be better if you pass me notes. Kennedy, be ready to act on my cues, like we did with the guy with the zombies."

"Zombies?" asked Daniel.

"There was a shaman with dancing zombies at the carnival. Would have probably won a prize if we'd let him go through with it."

"The Rio carnival?"

"No, worse thing we get there is an occasional vampire hitting the crowd, there are so many religious groups in Rio that it kinda puts them off. This was the Notting Hill Carnival in London. Guy had this whole Michael Jackson 'Thriller' thing going."

Eventually two guards arrived with the prisoner, now wearing baggy orange overalls. "Make yourself comfortable," said Willow, pointing to a chair. "We're gonna have to wait for your General to arrive." The prisoner glared at her but said nothing. "Sit. Don't worry, we're not gonna hurt you." The Knight sat, warily. "You guys, take off his cuffs." One of the guards looked enquiringly at Jack, who nodded.

"You know," said Willow, "this has all been a big misunderstanding. We didn't kill your guys, that was Glory and her henchmen. And we killed her for you..." As she talked her eyes very gradually darkened. "As for the Key, that's long been destroyed, although the news has been a little slow reaching you."

"The Key is the Link," the Knight said defiantly, "the link must be severed, such is the will of God!"

"The link _was_ severed," said Willow. She swayed from side to side slightly as she talked, and gradually the Knight was starting to sway in response to her movements. "You know that Glory was killed at Sunnydale, with her gone and Sunnydale gone there's no way that the Key could be used, even if it still existed. Your General knows that, he'll be here soon to explain it to you."

"The Key is the Link, the link must be severed, such is the will of God!"

"You've been out of touch," said Willow, "How long was it the Russians had you prisoner? Six months?"

"Six months?" said the Knight, sounding confused.

"Sure. You must have lost track in prison. A lot's happened while you were gone. Any minute now your general will be here, he'll explain it to you. I think I can hear him coming now. Kennedy, go let him in."

Kennedy went to the door, opened it, and stood to one side. Willow looked towards the door, semingly following someone's movements. The Knight watched, then snapped to his feet and made a gesture that Jack guessed was a salute.

"It's time for you to explain yourself, Soldier," said Willow. "You've done well, but the Key has been destroyed. Stand at ease and report on your mission, so that the record of your heroism can be added to our archives."

The Knight hesitated.

"Report, Soldier," barked Willow.

Swaying on his feet, facing an imaginary general, the Knight began to report - in Russian. Sam and Daniel took notes, Jack passed a series of questions to Willow. Eventually Sam signalled for Willow to stop.

"Okay, Soldier, you've done well. Now..." she snapped her fingers, and the Knight looked around, confused, then howled with rage and flung himself towards the table. Willow said _"Thicken"_ and he slowed, clawing at the air, which seemed to be shimmering slightly, as the guards caught up with him and cuffed him again.

_"Release._ Okay, keep him separate from the other guy for now, don't want them comparing notes." The guards hustled him out again. Willow turned to Jack and said "I can try to do that again with the other guy if you like, but I'm pretty sure he spilled his guts. Want to tell me what he said?"

"Mostly it was the sort of thing you get from any militrary debriefing. What happened, how he was caught, how you kidnapped him, that sort of thing. The real meat was the mission objectives."

"And..?" asked Kennedy.

"They were reconnoitering for a raid into the complex, looking for something called the 'Old Temple.'"

"I think a more literal translation is 'church,'" said Daniel.

"What do they think they're gonna find there?" asked Willow.

"Something they called 'The old magics.'"

"I think that could be 'ancient' rather than 'old,'" said Sam.

"Bad news either way," said Willow. "Things have a habit of getting more powerful the longer they've been around. Did they know where this temple is?"

"No, he wasn't told," said Jack. "He was supposed to study the movements of the guards and the layout of the place, time the patrols, and so on. They were supposed to stay there until the end of the week then head back to a rendezvous point to be extracted."

"That gives us a couple of days, I suppose. Do you think their friends know they've been captured?"

"Maybe. It depends if the Knights were monitoring the Russian signal traffic, or had more people watching the place. My guess would be no, unless the Russians have made it obvious, those guys didn't have radios and didn't know anything about another group."

"What about the Key?"

"What _is_ the Key?" asked Daniel.

"We've been through this already," said Willow. "You really don't need to know."

"It's just odd. He never got very specific, but the Russian word for 'key' takes the masculine form, and every time he referred to it, without actually using the word 'key,' he described it as 'she' or 'her.' I'll have to check the tapes, but I think they did that when they were talking to each other."

For a moment Willow sat staring at Daniel, then she pulled out her 'phone, pressed one of the speed dial buttons, and said "This is Willow. I'm gonna put on Doctor Jackson, he's just told me something you need to hear." She handed it to Daniel; he hesitantly said "hello?"

A male voice with a British accent said "Doctor Jackson? Go ahead, please."

"Right. I was just telling Willow that one of the Knights was using feminine nouns when he referred to the Key. I think they both did."

There was a long pause, then the voice on the 'phone said "Oh, bloody hell. Thank you, that's rather important. Could you put Willow back on?" Daniel silently handed the 'phone back to Willow. She listened intently, then said "Okay," and disconnected.

"Well?" asked Jack.

"They can't _know_ for sure," said Willow, half to herself.

"Know what."

"That... that Tara was the Key. What I don't get is why they're still after her, they must know she's dead."

Jack stared at her, and tried to guess why she was lying.


	14. XIII

"They're not going to buy it," said Kennedy. "You could drive a bus through the holes in that story. I think we're going to have to come clean."

Willow looked around the room, a trapped expression on her face, then said "Fine! Let's just tell all of our secrets. Not like we really know them or anything..."

"Willow, they've got problems of their own. And it's not like they can do anything useful with the info. Any more than we can."

"Maybe..."

"Why don't you explain it in broad terms," said Jack. "I think that we already understand that the Key is somehow attached to a human, and obviously it's someone you want to protect. It sounds like the Byzantium guys know as much, maybe know who it is. How much more do we need to know?"

"Um... Okay, fine, you're right. This doesn't leave the room, unless you guys want to end up eating mealworms in an aquarium. Agreed?"

"Okay," said Jack, raising his eyebrows slightly at the threat. "Agreed." Daniel, Sam, and Teal'c nodded.

"And?" asked Sam.

"The Key isn't just attached to a human," said Willow. "The monks made it into a human, and made sure it would be someone we cared for."

"So it's... what, an android?"

"What part of human are you having trouble with? Human blood, human hair, human DNA, and I'd guess that sooner or later she'll have human kids. She just didn't start out that way."

"A clone?" asked Jack. "Cool! I've got one of those."

"You've got a clone?" asked Kennedy.

"I was abducted by a mad alien scientist, he cloned me."

"Okay..." said Willow angrily. "Now I know you're putting me on."

"Indeed he is not," said Teal'c. "It was most surprising."

"Especially since he was a kid and had all my memories," said Jack.

"I wonder what they did about a soul," mused Willow. "They can't have copied that without magic, which means it must have formed with the body, or maybe a walk-in... Sorry, maybe when this is over you could introduce me, I'd love to see how your souls compare."

"Okay, I think that puts you back in the lead on weirdness," said Jack, remembering days of psychological tests and making a mental note not to introduce them. "Now about the Key..."

Willow took a deep breath. "They wanted to be sure that she'd be safe, that the Key wouldn't be used, so they sent her us and gave us reasons to want to protect her."

"They sent her to you?"

"No comment. Let's just say that she was someone close enough that all of us wanted to help her."

"But not Tara Maclay," said Daniel.

"No. Sorry... look, this is something you really don't need to know about in detail. The person concerned is well-protected, that's really all I want to say."

"That doesn't make a lot of sense," said Daniel. "Why send it to someone who was likely to be involved in the fight against Glory? Wouldn't it make more sense to send it somewhere completely different?"

"I think that there may have only been a few places in the world they could send her," said Willow. "Sunnydale and the other Hellmouths and mystical points. Also, I have a feeling that they had some instructions from the Powers that Be. The trouble was that the last surviving monk came to Sunnydale to warn us, and Glory tracked him."

"So that's the big secret," said Kennedy.

"And the only way to destroy the Key is to kill this person?" asked Sam.

"Yeah. The only way to use it, for that matter. That's one of the reasons why we couldn't let Glory make her getaway."

"And if she is killed it might cause a catastrophe?"

"Not likely," said Willow, "It was supposed to be a one-shot deal. But it's just possible, she does still have some of the Key energy inside her. We don't think it can be used that way any more, but we can't be a hundred percent sure."

"Okay," said Jack, "Sounds like we'd better get her protected."

"That's taken care of," Willow said sharply.

"If the Knights have access to Goa'uld equipment," Jack warned, "they'll be able to reach her. They have weapons a lot more powerful than a zat, and technology that includes spaceships and matter transmission."

"We'll bear it in mind," said Willow, "but trust me, we've got her well covered and she's difficult to find. If it becomes relevant I'll give you more details."

"Would it help if we took her off-world?" asked Daniel. "We have access to planets that the Goa'uld have nevr visited, so far as we know."

"So the only people there would be... what, a few soldiers or scientists?"

"Pretty much."

"She'd stick out like a sore thumb if they did come looking," Kennedy said dismissively. "On Earth she's just one person out of millions. With Willow's shielding there's no reason for them to find her."

"Plus," said Willow, "we don't actually know how her power would affect your gate thingy, or it would affect her. For all we know it's the same kinda energy in both of them."

"Good point," said Sam.

"Okay," said Jack. "We'll leave it at that for now. But remember, if it comes to it we have a pretty secure base in Colorado, hiding her there might be the best option."

"We'll bear it in mind," said Willow, in a tone that Jack guessed meant "No way."

"What now?" asked Kennedy. "We're really no further forward."

"We head back to the Charm School," said Jack, "See what we can find there."

"Colonel, I think that might be a very bad idea," said Sam, "In fact, I'd suggest that all of us stay well away from the place until we know more. I should have thought of it before."

"How come?" asked Jack.

"I think we could be dealing with a causation paradox."

"Like Star Trek?" asked Willow.

Sam looked a little pained, but said "In a way. The worst-case scenario would be a self-fulfilling prophecy, with our presence triggering the events of your dream. If none of us are there that can't happen."

"She's right, you know," said Daniel. "We've been concentrating so hard on the location that we forgot the specifics. None of us can go near the place again."

"That never works," said Willow. "Sorry, but we've run into this kinda thing before. The more you know about these things, the harder it is to wriggle out of them, and the worse it gets if you don't go along with things. If we don't go there..."

"Actually," said Kennedy, "the dream's only specific about the guys and Sam. No reason why the rest of us can't be there."

"That's true, but I think it's a red herring," said Sam. "If Willow's right there's probably something specific about this situation that needs all of us to be there. My guess is that something around the Russian complex concerns both our organisations, over and above the simple fact that the Knights are involved. Something demonic kept contained by Goa'uld technology, for example."

"That's a nasty thought," said Kennedy. "And we'd have to handle that, there's no way your guys would know how to deal with it."

"Shooting things usually helps," said Jack. "We'll be going armed, and we know Goa'uld weapons. Anyway, things have already changed. The Russians are evacuating all non-essential personnel pending our arrival and sending in troops. That means no children on the site, probably no civilians at all. The events of your dream can't happen as you remember them."

"How long can you keep the Russians from sending kids back there?" asked Willow. "Will they still be helpful in a month, or six months, or a couple of years?"

"Probably not," said Sam. "Could you use your influence..." she tailed off into silence, struck by an idea.

"Got something?" asked Jack.

"I think so, Colonel," said Sam. "Willow, a couple of days ago you told us about a trick you played to kill Santa Claus. Were you really serious?"

"Sure. Why?"

"I think I have the beginnings of a plan..."


	15. XIV

After Willow and Kennedy left, Jack said "Any ideas?"

"Assuming that the Key was born a few months before they fought the Knights of Byzantium," said Sam, "she'd be about four now. I haven't got very far tracing the Sunnydale group, especially Summers, but I haven't seen any evidence of a child that age."

"I didn't actually mean that. I can't think of anything more useless than a gizmo to destroy the universe, whether it's a little girl or a weapon the size of a Goa'uld starship, and Anubis is crazy enough to use it if he ever learns it exists. I think we'd better avoid mentioning the details in our reports. Edit the interrogation records and shred the tapes. If anyone needs to be told I'll do it verbally. Otherwise some idiot's bound to want to see if they can find the girl and tap into the Key without destroying the universe, and that's got to be a bad idea."

"Sir, you're... you're absolutely right, of course. We don't want news of anything like that getting out."

"I concur," said Teal'c. Daniel nodded.

"Okay. Carter, you'd better get busy on Willow's shopping list, and see if you can come up with any improvements. Daniel, give her a hand. Teal'c and I have to take care of a little unfinished business."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow and followed him out of the room.

oOoOoOo

"You wanted to see me, sir?" said Lieutenant Henderson, coming into Jack's office. Teal'c sat near the door in civilian clothes, apparently immersed in a report, the mark of Apophis covered by a baseball cap.

"Take a seat, captain," said Jack. Henderson looked confused. "I can't make it major yet, that might take a few months. Now sit down, my neck's aching looking up at you."

"I don't quite understand."

"That's why I'm the Colonel. You're being promoted. To captain now, to major once you have a little time in rank." Jack him tossed a small white box containing his new insignia. "Now tell me why it didn't happen five years ago."

"Sir, I can't answer that. I'm not cleared to discuss it."

"Your record's a little sparse in the late nineties up to two thousand, then from May that year you had hospital time in Los Angeles then a year in technical school while you were recovering. There's nothing on your record to explain what happened to you. As soon as you got back to work you were attached to Homeland Security and given some briefing information that shouldn't have been available to a lieutenant. A lieutenant-colonel, maybe."

Henderson looked at him but didn't say anything.

"So I started to wonder why a bright lieutenant would be frozen in rank for five or six years. The first idea I had was that you'd fouled up big-time, but they'd court-martial you if it was that bad. Then I remembered hearing about a special-ops mission going badly wrong in California around the time you were injured. Anything to say?"

"No sir."

"So... what did you think of Sunnydale, Captain?"

"Sir?" Henderson sounded wary.

"Let me bounce a few names off you, Captain. Riley Finn... Ethan Rayne... Graham Miller..."

"Sir?"

"What about Willow Rosenberg? Tara MacLay? Buffy Summers?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I can't say that I recollect any of those names."

"I like that," said Jack. "Nice wording. You can't _say_ that you recollect them."

"Sir?"

"Let me try a wild-ass guess here. Back in oh-two your old unit didn't exist any more, and never had. That left a huge hole in your records, and made it really difficult to get you promoted, especially when everyone involved was trying to keep a low profile or cover their ass. So you were given some assignments to keep you busy and out of the limelight, jobs where your specialised knowledge might be useful. At some point you were briefed about something called a 'foothold' that sounded like it might be the same sort of deal. Any comments?"

"No, Colonel," said Henderson.

"Let me carry on with this little story. By the time you were out of hospital you had no way to make contact with your old unit. So when a load of bodies turned up that looked like it might be their kind of business, you remembered hearing about footholds and called it in that way, thinking that it'd get back to the right people. Anything to say, Captain?"

"No, Colonel."

"You're quite sure?"

"Yes Sir."

Jack looked at Teal'c, who nodded.

"Congratulations," said Jack, reaching over to shake Henderson's hand. "You just got yourself a whole new level of problems to worry about."

"Sir?"

"In about a week you'll be offered a transfer to NORAD's Deep Space Telemetry operation. Accept it, and you'll find out what I'm talking about. We need people who can keep their mouths shut, and live with secrets that'll make you long for the good old days in Sunnydale. Fate of the world, that sort of thing. Think you're up to it?"

"Sir.. I can't say that I know what you're talking about, but I'd like to give it a try. But there's one thing..."

"Go on."

"One of the reasons why I was in hospital was an allergic reaction. I can't work in the same environment as... as my old job, or anything like it."

"Trust me, that won't be a problem... now scoot, go out and celebrate. We've got work to do. And don't forget the insignia." Jack handed him the box and a business card. "I don't know if that number still works, but if you have doubts about us you might want to give it a try, see what he says."

Henderson looked at the card and smiled "Thank you, Colonel."

"See you in a week or two."

"Yes Sir!" Henderson saluted.

"Don't let the door hit you on your way out."

When he'd gone Teal'c said "Was it wise to give him Miller's telephone number? Might he choose to return to his old duties?"

"I got a look at the summary of his medical records. I'm guessing he's allergic to vampire dust."

"That should not be a problem if he joins the SGC."

"Only one way to find out."

"Indeed."

oOoOoOo

"How's it going?" asked Jack.

"So-so," said Sam. "Disney's a wash-out, I'm afraid. They just aren't equipped for the sort of mass production we'd need, and they aren't prepared to shut down Disneyland to let us have their existing stock."

"And?"

"I checked with Willow," said Daniel. "She says that the important thing is articulation, she can manage without the Animatronics. So I called Janet, and she put me on to these people..." He reached down beside his desk and picked up a large cardboard box.

"And?"

"We can get as many as we want for $75 a shot, $60 if we want a hundred or more. They're lightweight, they pack small, and you can put them together without tools." As he talked Sam assembled the components on a wheeled base.

"That's a plastic skeleton," said Jack. "A glow-in-the-dark plastic skeleton."

"It's full size and anatomically accurate," Sam said defensively, "and all joints articulate. Willow can do the rest. They make smaller versions that will do for children."

"You don't think that the bad guys will notice the bones? Or the stand with the little wheels?"

"It doesn't work that way," said Daniel. "Or at least that's what Willow says. Once she gets to work they'll look, feel, and move like real people. They might not fool anyone for long, but a few minutes should get us past the dream sequence."

"Okay," said Jack. "Just so long as everyone remembers that we're getting ready for a battle, not a remake of Pirates of the Caribbean."

"Although that would be interesting," said Teal'c.

"You just like Johnny Depp's makeup," said Sam.

"Indeed."


	16. XV

In the streets outside men, women, and children seemed to be going about their daily lives. It would have taken a keen eye to notice their blank expressions, or realise that they seemed to be cycling through an unchanging routine. Inside one of the accommodation blocks most of the real people on site were getting very bored. Until...

"We've got company," said the technician monitoring the satellite feed.

"About time," said Jack. "Where are they?"

"I've got seven trucks unloading horses on the road to the east of the compound, and twenty to thirty metallic objects moving through the woods towards the outer perimeter. The radar returns are about what you get from an armoured Jaffa, they'd be about the same for someone in chain mail."

One of the Russian observers monitoring the security cameras around the site tapped her headphone and said "Telephones are out."

"Okay!" said Kennedy. "Finally some action. I'll get Willow and Dana." She ran out, dodging Teal'c in the doorway.

"The Knights are attacking?" asked Teal'c.

"Looks like it," said Sam. "Can't figure out how they plan to cross the minefield."

"Maybe that's what the guys on foot are for," said Jack. "Steel armour would give them some protection from anti-personnel mines, maybe they're going to clear a route."

"I think that there are a couple of wizards out there," said Willow, coming in with Dana and Kennedy. "I can feel strong magical auras. Could be they're gonna use magic to clear the way."

"Won't their wizards notice you?" asked Daniel

"Not yet. I'm pretty well shielded, and the spell I used to detect them is powered by their magic, not by me. Like... what do they call it when they listen for submarines, without sending out those 'ping' noises?"

"Passive sonar?" asked Sam.

"That's it."

"Remember," said Jack, "we want to figure out their objectives before we take them out. We still haven't identified the 'Old Temple' the prisoners told us about,"

"It's definitely not the church?" asked Kennedy.

"The Russians are positive that there was nothing there before they built it in the nineteen-fifties. No ancient ruins, nothing that might be an old temple. And ground radar seems to bear that out. There are no old ruins showing up anywhere on the site."

"If we'd had more time we might have figured it out," said Willow, "but a record search could take weeks."

"They've finished unloading," said the technician. "I've got the horses moving through the woods towards the main body of troops."

"How long until they join up?" asked Jack.

"Couple of minutes."

"Okay. My guess is they won't hang around. They're pretty close to the outer perimeter now, I think real guards would start to notice something wrong. Can you simulate that?"

"I guess," said Willow, concentrating for a second. Around the edges of the compound several uniformed figures raised binoculars to their eyes and began to scan the woods. There was a long pause, then Willow said "Some major mojo's going down."

"Any idea what..." began Jack, but was interrupted by a series of violent explosions. The main lights and power went out, but most of the SGC equipment had battery backup. About half the security screens were dead.

"They must have taken out the mines," Jack shouted over the ringing in his ears.

"I guess," Willow shouted back.

"Okay," said Jack, switching on his encrypted radio. "All observers, report."

"Post one, nothing in sight"

"Post two, I've got nothing."

"Post three... I can see hostiles in the woods, starting to cross the minefield on horseback and on foot, grid coordinates 17-43 and heading west. They're moving fast."

"Okay," said Willow, looking at the map. More of her ersatz guards moved towards the inner fence opposite the incursion, carrying assault rifles. On the streets a crowd began to form, with the fake townspeople appearing to panic as the Knights thundered across the torn earth. A hail of arrows rained down on the guards, and Willow obligingly dropped them as they were hit.

"Sweet!" said Jack. "I didn't think they'd be this convincing."

"Thanks," said Willow, her face tense, then added "More mojo!"

"The inner fence is down," said the observer in post three. "About fifty yards of it just... melted, I guess."

"Holy crap," said Willow.

"That's bad?" asked Sam.

"Either they think there won't be any magical opposition, or they've got one heck of a lot of power to burn."

On the streets the crowds fled, chased by the mounted knights. More fell to their deadly arrows.

"They don't seem to care who they hit," said Sam.

"The Key is the link, the link must be severed," said Dana, her pupils dilated, "such is the will of God."

"And anyone that gets in the way is against God?"

"Such is the will of God," repeated Dana. From outside there were screams and the noise of shots, then the unmistakable crackle of a zat.

"How many have zats?" asked Jack.

"Post five here, I count three. Oh crap!"

"What?"

"The camouflage on the dummies goes down when they're shot. I can see the skeletons."

"Maybe they won't know the difference," said Sam. "It's the first time they've used them, as far as we know."

"Maybe, so long as they don't take a close look," said Willow. "The springs and wires are a bit of a give-away. I'll try to make it look like they're real..."

"Don't do anything to reveal yourself, not yet!"

"Post seven, they're heading towards the park."

"What's in the park?" demanded Jack.

"Nothing," said Daniel, looking at the map. "Boating lake, a couple of statues, benches, and some swings."

"Anything underground?"

"If there is it didn't show up on radar or a magnetometer sweep."

"Could be screened," said Willow, "something like the spell I used to hide the cars in Los Angeles."

"Anyone got a clear view of the park?" asked Jack.

"Post nine. Two of the knights are standing by the lake, chanting something, Must be a dozen others guarding them. The water... the water's rippling, like something's moving underneath."

"I can feel something moving," said Willow. "It's rising. Something old, real old."

"Okay," said Jack. "We know their target. Let's mess things up a little. Willow, on your mark, let's give them a show."

"Okay," said Willow, closing her eyes.

On the street outside the panicking crowds stopped, and began to form up into ordered ranks, their disguises fading away to reveal the skeletons underneath. The Knights guarding their route into the town watched in astonishment, firing arrows at the skeletons, which ignored them. Something crackled, then backed by a bass disco beat and several hundred watts of amplification a voice sang:

_"Young man, there's no need to feel down.  
I said, young man, pick yourself off the ground."_

The 'bodies' shot by the guards climbed to their feet, shedding their disguises, and joined the ranks.

_"I said, young man, 'cause you're in a new town  
there's no need to be unhappy."_

The skeletons began to dance towards the Knights,

_"It's fun to stay at the y-m-c-a.  
It's fun to stay at the y-m-c-a."_

A couple of skeletons went down, their legs severed by bullets or arrows, but most of the rest crowded towards the Knights. By the lake the chanting Knights speeded up their song. On the street the Knights began to back away from the advancing skeletons. Inside the command post one of the monitors imploded, then another. "They know I'm here," said Willow, her eyes darkening, "You'd better clear the building, things could get kinda ugly."

"Who's doing it?" asked Jack.

"Guys at the pond," said Willow.

"Post nine, can you take out the group by the lake?"

"Affirmative."

"Do it."

There was a pause of a few seconds, then a voice said "Post eight reporting, post nine just got taken out, looks like something exploded."

"Damn," said Jack.

"That wasn't them," said Willow. "Something else is out there."

"Another wizard?"

"Maybe... but it's old, and a heck of a lot more powerful than the Knights."

"They've summoned something?" asked Kennedy. Another monitor blew out.

"I don't think so," said Willow. "It's... it's using them, I think."

"Post eight, something's surfaced. Looks like a tel'tak, Colonel."

"You sure?"

"Affirmative."

"What's a tel'tak?" asked Willow.

"Goa'uld cargo ship," said Sam. "They aren't usually armed."

"Post eight, the Knights at the lake are going down, something's fighting them."

"Can you identify it?" asked Jack.

"It's moving really fast, but... it's one of the Knights."

"Let's get out there," said Jack. "Whatever's aboard that tel'tak, we probably don't want anyone using it."

Teal'c and Kennedy took the lead, followed by Jack, Sam, and Willow, with Dana and Daniel in the rear and half a dozen soldiers guarding their flanks. On the streets the Knights were trying to fight off the skeletons. Individually they weighed a few pounds; tangled together and animated by Willow's magic they were hampering their movements and slowly dragging the Knights down, giving them no room to fight anyone else. Zat bursts from the SGC troopers took out anyone who seemed likely to get free. On the speaker system 'YMCA' ended and 'In The Navy' began.

"Who picked the music?" shouted Jack.

"Me," said Kennedy. "I couldn't find a good one for the Air Force, hope you don't mind."

"I think I can live with my disappointment."

It was only a few hundred yards to the park; by the time they got there only one Knight was standing, wading towards the tel'tak.

"Stop right there," shouted Jack. "Put down your weapons and step away from the vehicle."

The Knight slowly turned towards them and raised an empty hand, glowing with blue energy. There was something odd about his face, an absence of distinguishing features, a caricature of a normal man.

"Everyone down!" shouted Willow, flinging herself to the ground behind an armoured body. Everyone else ducked for the nearest cover. There was a loud explosion. When they looked up there was a hole a yard wide in the side of the tel'tak, and the Knight was climbing in. Teal'c fired a blast from his staff weapon, and Sam and Daniel their zats. The Knight ignored them.

"Force field?" asked Sam.

"Don't think so," said Jack. "He just seemed to absorb the energy."

"Whatever it is," said Willow, "I think giving it more power to play with might be a really bad idea."

"Good point... okay, no energy weapons. Carter, can that thing fly with a hole like that?"

"Maybe. Depends what systems it took out."

"Let's hope he doesn't know that." He shouted "You in the ship... that thing isn't flying anywhere. Come out with your hands up."

There was silence for a moment, then a groan of twisting metal. The hole in the hull slowly widened, pulled open from inside.

"I don't think he wants to fly it," said Kennedy.

"Let's take this carefully," said Jack. "Carter, any energy signatures from the tel'tak? Nukes, antimatter, anything like that?"

She looked at a hand-held sensor and said "No, Colonel. Just the usual power systems and engines. Can't detect any weapons."

"What the hell is he after then?"

Suddenly the speaker system howled, and everyone wearing a radio headset winced as a piercing whistling note jamed communications. It lasted a few seconds, then faded to silence.

"My guess would be the comms systems," Daniel said dryly.

Over his earphone Jack heard "SGC to SG-1."

"SG-1 to SGC, go ahead."

"Foothold, repeat Foothold. We have a major Goa'uld energy signature, it just went active in Bosnia."

"What type of energy signature?"

"We're not sure yet, but whatever it is, it's big."

In Bosnia a hillside slowly split open. Shedding rocks, soil, and a few scrubby trees, a huge pyramid-shaped Ha'tak rose into the air.


	17. XVI

"You in the tel'tak," shouted Jack. "You're completely surrounded. Come out with your hands up."

There was silence, apart from the incessant beat from the speaker system. Around the park some of the Knights were starting to stir, and SGC and Russian troops were gathering up weapons before they could be used again. In the distance Jack could hear rotor blades, the relief force that had been waiting at an airfield thirty miles away. He hoped that they'd be able to cope with whatever was inside the Goa'uld ship. His headphone crackled and General Hammond's voice said "SGC to SG-1"

"Go ahead, General."

"We have a positive track on a ha'tak. It took off from Bosnia three minutes ago and it's headed your way."

"ETA?"

"It's travelling slowly, distance is about eleven hundred miles. Twenty to twenty-five minutes if it doesn't change course or speed."

"All teams take cover," said Jack, switching to a tactical frequency. "Missile teams stand by. We have an incoming ha'tak, ETA twenty minutes. Set up and stand by for further instructions."

"How did something the size of a ha'tak land in Bosnia without anyone noticing?" Sam said over the command network.

"Apparently it was underground," said Hammond. "We have some cellphone intercepts, NSA say that the locals are talking about a hill that exploded."

"Have we got anything in range to intercept it?" asked Jack.

_"Prometheus_ is powering up now, but it'll be at least forty minutes before she's ready for action. The Russians are diverting fighters, so is NATO."

"This hill?" asked Daniel. "Northwest of Sarajevo?"

"Affirmative, Doctor Jackson," said Hammond. "You know something about it?"

"There's an archaeologist with some rather dubious credentials that believes that one of the hills there is a pyramid. But it's silly season stuff, nothing to take seriously."

"Like... oh.. flying saucers landing on the pyramids in Egypt?" said Jack.

"No, this is really far out," Daniel said seriously. "The theory is suspect, so is the geology. Or at least that's what everyone thought. Nobody's even sure that the Illyrians were around in that region when it was supposed to have been built."

"The _who?"_ said Willow.

"The Illyrians," said Daniel. "One of the Bronze Age Baltic civilizations."

"Oh crap," Willow said in a small voice.

"What do you know?" asked Jack.

"We heard rumours... someone in LA summoned a god called Illyria, put it in a human shell. About four months ago."

"What sort of god are we talking about here?" asked Jack. "Something like a human with glowing white eyes?"

"Sorry, no," said Willow. "More like Cthulhu. An ancient thing from the dawn of time with a bunch of tentacles."

"Daniel, know anything about this?"

"Sorry, not a thing. If the Ancients told me anything about Illyria, it didn't stick."

"Crap."

"ETA now firmed at twenty minutes," said Hammond's voice over the radio. "The Russians have an interceptor in range, it's firing missiles... " There was an interminable pause, then he added "No damage to the ha'tak."

"What about the fighter?" asked Jack.

"Unharmed. There was no return fire."

"Sounds like it's on automatic pilot," Sam said excitedly. "It makes a lot of sense. It must have been programmed to respond to the tel'tak signal."

"There will be transporter rings in the tel'tak," said Teal'c. "When the ha'tak arrives the occupant will presumably use them to board it."

"And then?" asked Willow.

Jack shrugged. "Take out a few cities? A ha'tak can do a lot of damage."

"Time for us to earn our pay," said Kennedy. "Willow, can you protect us from those fireballs she was throwing?"

"I think so," said Willow. "It didn't feel too unusual."

"Okay," said Kennedy. "You use your mojo, Dana and I will get her out into the open."

"Wait a minute," said Jack, "you can't..." He realised that he was talking to Willow's back, as the two Slayers ran towards the lake and Willow began to chant something, her hair darkening. Slowly she rose into the air, threads of something that looked like black lightning crackling around her. Somehow the Slayers raced across the water without sinking.

"Take cover!" shouted Jack.

Dana jumped through the opening, Kennedy a split-second behind her, and there was a loud crash from inside the tel'tak.

"How much damage can they do in there?" asked Daniel.

"Depends," said Sam. "At worse they could take out the power plant, if enough things went wrong that would be like a small nuke." There was a loud clang, and a dent appeared in the hull of the tel'tak, bulging outwards.

"Great," said Jack, and shouted "Get it outside! Don't fight inside the ship!"

More thuds and bangs, then a slim form hurtled through the hole and splashed into the water. Kennedy bobbed to the surface, shook her head a little dazedly, then swam back to the ship and climbed back inside. There was a rumble and one of the tel'tak's loading ramps began to lower.

"She must have hit the hatch switch as she went inside," said Sam.

"Okay," said Jack. "Snipers! Cover the hatch!"

As the hatch opened a slender form hurtled out, thudding into the bank of the lake. It sprang to its feet; a slim woman in dark red leathery armour, her skin and hair tinted blue.

"That is not one of the Slayers," said Teal'c.

"Well spotted, Sherlock." The woman, if that was what she was, twisted her head at an odd angle then leapt back aboard the tel'tak, covering ten yards or so in a single bound. Jack added "Nimble little minx, isn't she?"

"Indeed," said Teal'c. Jack hadn't expected him to spot the Ghostbusters reference. Inside they could see three struggling figures; Dana, Kennedy, and the woman in red, moving so fast that there was no opportunity for a clear shot. Together they toppled out through the hatch, rolling out in a ball of flailing legs and fists, and splashed into the water, vanishing under the surface for a moment. Then the red-clad figure surged from the water and onto the shore. She seemed to be about to leap back inside then hesitated. She turned her head round to an angle impossible for any normal person, looking towards Willow and Daniel. As the Slayers rose from the water and waded towards the shore she turned her body and started to walk towards Willow, the direction of her gaze never changing.

Willow said "Thicken!" The air between Willow and the woman shimmered; she slowed slightly but didn't stop.

"Take her out!" shouted Jack. There were shots, but the bullets stopped in the air a few feet from her head. She ignored them, ignored Willow, and reached out to touch Daniel. With a flash of white light they both disappeared.


	18. XVII

Daniel saw a flash of white light, blinked, and looked around. He was in a huge hall, featureless and lit by a white glow from the floor, walls, and ceiling. There didn't seem to be any entrance. On the floor, about fifty feet away, there was a huddled dark shape. He looked around, and saw the woman in red armour, about ten feet away, standing and watching him impassively, her eyes unblinking.

"Who are you?" asked Daniel. The sound of his voice seemed to be muffled, absorbed as he spoke. There was no echo.

"I am Illyria, god-king of the Primordium, shaper of things."

"That's... interesting."

"You doubt my word?" said Illyria. Daniel felt the hairs of his neck rising, and the part of his brain that analyzed events wondered at his sudden fear.

"I'm sure that you think you're a god..."

"You think that I am deluded?" Abruptly she was behind him. He hadn't seen her move.

"The Goa'uld claim to be gods," said Daniel. "They're liars."

"I know of the Goa'uld. Weak parasites, who must lie and steal to rule their pitiful empire."

"Okay... so you're something else?"

"I am an Old One," she said, walking around to face him. "The humans who know of such things would call me a true demon. My kind ruled your world before your pitiful species evolved."

"Why a true demon? What's different about you?"

"The demons of your world are half-breeds. Their blood is polluted, their heritage largely human. They are weak sickly creatures."

"You look pretty human."

"For now. My Qwa'ha Xahn infected this shell with my essence, believing it time for me to resume my rule. He was mistaken."

"Your Qwa'ha Xahn... um... I'm afraid I don't know what that means."

"Acolyte. He exceeded his authority. I find this form... limited. Irritating."

"What would you normally look like?"

"For now, this is my form."

"Where are we?"

"It is called the White Room. It belongs to the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart." She began to walk away from him towards the dark shape on the floor. He followed her; there didn't seem to be much else for him to do.

"The Wolf... Wolfram and Hart?"

"You know of them?" asked Illyria.

"I've heard of them." As they got closer Daniel realised that the shape was a dead panther, lying in a pool of dark blood. As he watched the blood seemed to redden, and began to flow back towards its body. Illyria stamped her heel into its head and it exploded, fragments of blood, bone, and brain spurting from the corpse.

"The Conduit to the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. It will regenerate again," said Illyria. "For now it is harmless, and while it is dead the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart are blocked from this room."

"What do you want with me?" Daniel asked.

"You have ascended. You will help me destroy the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart."

oOoOoOo

"Daniel?" said Jack. "Where the hell did he go?"

"She took him," said Willow, floating down to earth. "Walked through my defences like they weren't there, grabbed him and vanished." She staggered as she landed, and Kennedy was suddenly by her side, supporting her. "I think she took a lot of my power too, I shouldn't feel this woozy."

"Great. You'd better get to cover, we've got about five minutes until the ha'tak gets here, and I don't think swords and stakes are going to be much use against it."

oOoOoOo

"How am I supposed to help you?" asked Daniel.

"You know of the Key?"

"I've heard of it," he said cautiously. "I don't know much about it."

"This form lacks power. To accomplish the destruction of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart I need much more."

"The Key?"

"The Key can take me to them, but it is insufficient for their destruction. They have spent thousands of years building their army."

"So what did you have in mind?"

"The flying pyramid."

"The ha'tak?" asked Daniel.

"I will take it to the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart and destroy them utterly." Illyria walked back to the dead panther and smashed its head again. "I will crush them, as I crush this creature."

"I still don't understand why you need me."

"I learned many things from the records of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart," said Illyria. "I learned of the Knights of Byzantium, and that their relics included weapons they had never learned to use. Another record told of the Goa'uld, and I realised that the Knights had Goa'uld weapons, something that never occurred to the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. I decided to use the Knights to find the source of the weapons and the Key. They were easily manipulated, once I showed them how to use their relics."

"People have been hurt. Killed."

"I did not kill them. But if they were killed, they were unworthy to survive."

"So why do you need me?" Daniel repeated.

"You are an ascended being. You must know the location of the Key."

"Sorry," said Daniel. "I don't have any memories of my time ascended."

"That is easily remedied," said Illyria. Before Daniel could move she was standing behind him, her fingertips pressing on the sides of his head. He felt an intolerable pressure, then his head seemed to explode.


	19. XVIII

"Two minutes, everyone!" shouted Jack. "Two minutes!"

"What is your plan?" aske Teal'c.

"If it's hostile we take it out fast, if it's really running on autopilot we might be able to capture it."

"Can you beam aboard it?" asked Willow, who seemed to be recovering a little, although Kennedy was supporting her.

"We'll try when it's closer," said Jack. "You'd better take cover."

"Not a chance," said Willow. "If you go aboard and Illyria's there she'll go through you like a chainsaw. We can slow her down a little."

"You seem pretty sure it is Illyria," said Carter, suspiciously.

"I recognized her. Or rather, I recognized the woman she possessed. Fred... Winifred. She used to work for Angel."

"And you didn't mention this before?" said Jack.

"We haven't exactly had a lot of time," said Willow. "It's a long story, and maybe I could have stopped it, stopped the infection before Fred was consumed, if certain people hadn't decided to keep me out of it. We'll never know now." There was a little anger in her eyes.

"Gi... He thought he was doing the right thing," said Kennedy. "Anyway, it's pretty much academic now."

"Ha'tak's on radar," shouted one of the technicians. "Coming in from the south-west, be overhead in about thirty seconds."

"Weapons crews hold your fire until my signal," said Jack, "Let's see what it's going to do first."

The answer, it seemed, was nothing. The pyramid flew overhead, gradually slowing, and halted a few hundred feet above the tel'tak.

"Wow," said Kennedy. "Hanging there the way that bricks don't." Nobody seemed to pick up on the reference. Dana glared at it, as if daring it to do something.

"Let's see if we can get the rings to work and teleport aboard," said Jack.

oOoOoOo

"I had wondered if you would find your way back here," said a familiar voice. "And you have brought a guest. Illyria, it is good to see you again."

"Oma Desala," said Daniel. They were somewhere else. A diner, of all places. "Wait a minute... you know Illyria?"

"I should have guessed," said Illyria. "What now, Power? Here to gloat at my failure?"

"You haven't failed yet," said Oma. "You have simply mistaken the nature of success." They locked eyes, and Daniel felt himself excluded from a silent conversation. After several minutes he said "Hello?"

"Silence, muck," said Illyria.

"By now that leopard thing will be getting itself together," said Daniel.

"Mere seconds have passed in the White Room," said Illyria, "There is still ample time. Be silent." She turned back to Oma Desala, ignoring him.

Daniel shrugged, went behind the counter, and poured himself a coffee.

oOoOoOo

"All decks secure," said Sam. "No sign that anyone's been aboard in thousands of years, but we've found a couple of dozen skeletons in technical areas and the crew cabins. Most of the systems are down or running on backup power."

"Including the engines?" asked Jack. "I'd hate for this thing to run out of juice and fall out of the sky."

"They're okay," said Sam, "someone fuelled it before it was abandoned, the naquada reactors are still okay."

"This place is amazing," said Willow, coming in with Tea'lc and Dana. Kennedy followed, holding an onyx jar in the shape of a stylised woman. "We found this in one of the bedroomy compartments," Willow added, "there's something alive inside it, I can sense it. Kinda evil, I think, but dormant. Teal'c says it's probably a Goa'uld parasite."

Jack picked up his radio and said "Someone get me a containment case. We've got a Goa'uld in a stasis jar."

There was an inscription in heiroglyphics on the jar, and Sam said "If Daniel was here he could read that, tell us who it is."

"I've got someone on it," said Willow, holding up her cellphone. "Might take a while, but she's pretty good."

"How the hell did you get a signal in here?" asked Jack.

"Magic," said Willow. "It thinks it's in Cleveland." As she spoke the phone played a few bars of the _Ghostbusters_ theme. Willow looked at the screen, then said "Hi, Dawn... got something for us?" There was a mumble from the other end, then Willow said "thanks" and closed the phone. "She says it translates as 'Shala,' or something like it, and that some sources say that Shala was the bride of Dagon."

"That was fast work," said Sam.

"She probably found most of it apart from the name in Wikipedia," said Willow. "That's just a preliminary report, it'll be a couple of hours before she can send us everything we have on her."

"So Dagon left his wife aboard in a jar," mused Jack, "maybe she was disloyal to him, or he wanted to find her a new body. He must have parked the Ha'tak in Illyria and set out aboard the tel'tak for some reason. I wonder why he never went back."

"Could be anything," said Sam. "We haven't checked out the tel'tak thorougly yet, maybe there was an engine problem, or a mutiny aboard the ha'tak. Or he might have been on the run from some other Goa'uld and gone to ground somewhere."

"That could explain it," said Jack. "Maybe he camouflaged the big ship and killed his crew to stop them from talking, then went native for a while until the heat was off. But he lost the tel'tak somehow and couldn't get back to the ha'tak."

"Can you ask the wife?" asked Willow.

"Only by putting it into a human host," said Sam, "and I don't think anyone here wants to volunteer, do you?"

"Nope. Hey... how human would the host have to be?"

"They can take over most animals," said Sam.

"I was thinking more of a homunculus, a magical construct. It would only live for a few minutes, that might be enough time to get some answers."

"It's tempting," said Jack, "but no. Policy on this is to keep the jar, maybe trade it for prisoners if the Goa'uld capture our people."

"Knowing that they'll put it into a human host?" asked Kennedy.

"It isn't something we want to do," said Sam, "It would have to be a pretty important prisoner, like Daniel or Teal'c, or a major ally."

"Hey!" said Jack.

"Or me, of course," Sam said with a wink.

"Indeed," said Teal'c.

Two marines came in carrying a large steel container covered with biohazard symbols, and Tealc lifted the stasis jar into it and supervised its packing. "We'll take that back to the SGC," said Jack, "put it in secure storage."

"I think we're missing a point here," Willow said once the marines had left. "If that was Shala then we know for sure that Dagon was a Goa'uld. He must have founded the Knights of Byzantium and the Order of Dagon as a power base. That still doesn't tell us how they got hold of the Key though. And the whole Illyria thing is one hell of a coincidence."

oOoOoOo

"The Key is not negotiable," Oma Desala said abruptly. "It was placed on Earth for good reason, and has still to fulfill its destiny."

"Then there is no agreement," said Illyria.

"Had you forgotten the knowledge of the shell?"

"Knowledge?"

"You already know the secret of dimensional portals. It would be simple to apply it on a large scale."

"This shell lacks the power..." Illyria said thoughtfully.

"With the engines of a starship that should not be a problem," said Oma Desala.

"Wait a minute," said Daniel, "are you interfering? I thought that you guys didn't do that sort of thing."

"They do it all the time," said Illyria. "The Ancients you know are just a facet of the Powers that Be. And they are constantly meddling."

"This has nothing to do with your petty war with the Goa'uld," said Oma Desala, "or the things you have yet to face. This is more a matter of..." she seemed to struggle for a phrase.

"Of pest control," said Illyria. "The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart are an abberation, the Ancients wish to see it cleansed as much as I do."

"You over-simplify," said Oma Desala, "but essentially you are correct."

"Then everything you've ever told me..." began Daniel.

"Was true," said Oma Desala, "just incomplete. We do not meddle in mortal affairs. The mystical is another matter."

"Great," Daniel said bitterly. "Just peachy."

"You will return to your world," said Oma Desala. "We can keep the White Room isolated for a time, but only for a time. You must be ready to act soon, or the Wolf, the Ram and The Hart will know of your coming, and have defences prepared."

"They won't just let her have the ha'tak on my word," said Daniel.

"We will provide more tangible proof," said Oma Desala.

Abruptly Daniel and Illyria were standing elsewhere. Daniel looked around and recognized the bridge of a Ha'tak, as half a dozen guns were pointed towards them.

"You're back already?" said Jack. "And you bought friends."

"Friends?" said Daniel. He looked around. Illyria stood to his left, watching impassively. To his right, floating in mid-air about a foot above the deck, was a woman in a flowing white dress, crouched in a foetal position, hair covering her face. She glowed a soft white, and seemed to be muttering something.

"What?" said Daniel.

"I said," the stranger repeated, floating down towards the deck, "what the hell does a girl have to do to stay dead around here?"

Almost in unison, Willow and Illyria said "Cordy?"


	20. XIX and Epilogue

"That's my name," said the stranger. "Don't wear it out."

"Didn't you say she was dead?" asked Jack.

"Standing right here," said Cordelia. "And yeah, I'm dead." She stretched, looking at her body, and added "This is just a temporary thing. Once I'm done here this goes back upstairs. Though I have to say they've given me nice boobs, better than the last time around."

Several pairs of eyes, not all of them male, suddenly looked in the same direction.

"You are the Powers' messenger," said Illyria, ignoring the weapons that were pointed at her.

"Think of me as the small still voice of conscience," Cordelia misquoted.

"Riiight," said Willow.

"Okay, not so small or still." Cordelia shrugged.

"What's this about?" asked Jack.

"She wants the ha'tak…" Daniel gestured to Illyria, "and she's been sent by the Ancients to make sure that we give it to her…" he indicated Cordelia. "It turns out that the Ancients are the same as the Powers that Willow mentioned, and that their non-interference policy doesn't extend to the supernatural."

"Pretty much right," said Cordelia, "except that I think that this is a spectacularly dumb idea, I don't know what the Powers were smoking when they came up with it. I want to talk Fred out of it."

"Time is short," said Illyria. "Fred is no more, and you speak of things you do not understand."

"Sure I understand. You go to take out Wolfram and Hart, you're going to crash and burn. It's a suicide mission. Whether you take them down with you or not the Powers are rid of you."

"They would be rid of me soon anyway."

"Huh?"

"This shell was never meant to hold a god. Wesley delayed things, for a time, but in the long term that has made things worse. Within weeks the shell will fail and I will die."

"That's unfortunate," said Jack, "but a lot of people have been hurt..."

"Many more will be hurt if I do not leave this world in time. The change will release considerable energy. I would use it to destroy my enemies."

"How much energy?" asked Sam.

"I would estimate one point five times ten to the seventeenth joules."

"Is that a lot?" asked Kennedy.

"About… ummm… thirty-seven megatons," said Sam.

"Okay," said Jack. "Then we need to get you off-world fast."

"First," said Illyria, "You will tell me what I need to know about the workings of this vessel."

"Hey, who said anything about using this vessel?" said Jack. "We can fly you to the far side of the Moon, if you explode there it won't do much damage."

"The Powers, your Ancients, wish me to take this ship. You will not oppose me."

"We need this ship," Jack said stubbornly.

"You have destroyed others like it." Illyria gestured towards Daniel. "His memories tell me this. Without it I cannot be sure to cause enough damage to eliminate the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. I had planned to use the Key to travel to them and destroy their universe…" Willow and the Slayers tensed "…but there was always a risk that the damage would spread until all dimensions were consumed. Your Ancients showed me a better way."

"Something's better than a thirty-seven megaton explosion?"

"This craft is capable of relativistic speeds, its engines contain naqahdah. These are force multipliers."

"So you're going to… ram their planet and explode?"

"It is not a planet, but you are essentially correct. I will gain relativistic speed in this universe, before using its engines to transfer to the nexus of dimensions occupied by the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. At the moment of arrival they, and I, will be consumed by the explosion."

Illyria cocked her head, as though considering something, and abruptly vanished.

"Where the hell did she go?"

"I think she's gone back to the White Room," said Daniel. "It's a conduit between our world and wherever the bad guys live. She has to keep killing it, or they'll know what we're doing."

"She's killing the conduit?" asked Willow.

"It looked like a big panther, but its body kept repairing itself when she killed it."

Illyria reappeared, her boots stained with bright red blood. "Time grows short. I will have this vessel, with or without your cooperation."

"There's more, isn't there?" said Daniel. "I didn't get much when you and Oma Desala were talking, but it felt like you were talking for hours. You don't need that much time to decide to crash and burn."

"It is none of your concern."

"Phoenix." Dana stared at Illyria, fascinated by something that only she could see. "Phoenix rising from the ashes."

"You have got to be kidding," said Cordelia. "You think you can come back from _that_?"

"It is unlikely." Illyria looked uncertain for a moment. "But if I can consume the energies of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart as we are destroyed, I may be able to survive and assume a more durable form."

"Durable?" asked Sam.

"It will be many eons before the rest of my kind are ready to return to this universe, before the stars are right. If I am to survive to greet them, I must be more durable."

"You think that you can go through a nuclear explosion and survive for thousands of years?"

"Millions."

"That would be difficult," said Teal'c. "You will be alone."

"I need no companions," said Illyria, "save perhaps a counselor. A link to the Ancients, or whatever takes their place in the fullness of time." She turned her gaze on Cordelia. "You will be adequate to serve as my Qwa'ha Xahn."

"Your _what?"_ Cordelia looked incredulous.

"I think it means High Priest," said Daniel. "And knowing Oma Desala she's already given you the job."

"The shell remembers liking Cordelia," said Illyria. "And now she is a Higher Being. Who better to serve me?"

"Don't I get a say in this?" asked Cordelia, then after a moment added "Oh… oh, okay, guess I don't. All right, that's cool."

"That's _cool?"_ Willow said incredulously.

"Let me put it this way," said Cordelia. "The job has benefits. Nothing you'd understand, but… yeah, I could go for that."

"Time is running out," said Illyria. "I cannot kill the conduit indefinitely. Soon they will choose to close the White Room and find another link to this world. Tell me what I need to know, and do so now. Or I will take this vessel without your help, and you will be responsible for those I am forced to injure."

"Let me make a call," said Jack.

"No. No calls. There is no time, and no way to be sure that those you consult can be trusted. The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart thrive on treachery."

"Okay… Willow, what happens if those guys are taken out? World peace?"

"Nope. Plenty of bad guys around, Wolfram and Hart just oiled the machinery, kept it working well together. But take them out and what's left will be a hell of a lot easier to handle."

"And if it all goes horribly wrong?"

"We lose this ship," said Sam, "and frankly, it's seen better days. We can live without it."

"How do I know you won't turn this thing around and ram the Earth, get your energy right here?"

"The fleeting lives of such insignificant creatures are as nothing compared to the energies of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart. If I destroyed the largest city…" Illyria cocked her head, as if in thought. "No, it wouldn't work."

"Nice to know. Okay, she's yours. Carter, tell her about the engines. Illyria, one condition – we disable the weapons, and you take this thing out of the solar system under escort. I don't want you getting any ideas about turning around."

"That is… acceptable."

"Okay, get me a channel to the _Prometheus_, we've work to do."

**Epilogue**

SG-1, Willow, and the Slayers materialized aboard the _Prometheus_ as it crossed the orbit of Jupiter, the last to leave the ha'tak. Illyria and Cordelia remained aboard as it began to draw ahead, accelerating with the full power of its engines, and quickly vanished from view.

"How long will it take?" asked Jack.

Sam shrugged. "With all of the safeties off another few hours will see them up to the speed Illyria wants then they'll make the dimensional jump. After that…"

"After that I can return some of the General's calls," said Jack. "I don't think he's going to be very happy with us. Where's this thing headed now?"

Sam studied a terminal. "We're still on course for Saturn, nearest approach at twenty-two hundred hours."

"Okay… never seen Saturn up close and personal, let's stay on course and take a look, then head for home."

oOoOoOo

The radio was distorted by static and distance as Prometheus crossed the Moon's orbit again, on the last leg of its journey back to its orbital station.

"…estimate that at least five thousand people have been killed in simultaneous explosions in New York, Washington, London, Paris, Rome, Moscow and Beijing. So far seven separate terrorist groups have claimed responsibility for the destruction of the main offices of the Wolfram and Hart organization..."

Jack switched it off. "Do you think someone might have given us a little warning about that?"

_"I_ didn't see it coming," said Willow. "They must have been linked to the conduit that Illyria mentioned, when things went bang a little of the energy must have seeped through. She must have taken them out. I wonder if she made it."

"It's unlikely," said Sam. "With everything combined there must have been a total blast of several hundred megatons. She might have Ascended, like an Ancient, but I can't see her finding time to steal life force and make a new body in the middle of that explosion."

"Yeah… well, that's why you're not a god and she is." Without anyone noticing Cordelia had appeared on the bridge, and was leaning against one of the auxiliary fire control stations.

"She did it?"

"Oh yeah, and she says to tell you guys thanks. Well, to be honest she says that you must worship her and praise her for destroying the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart, but don't worry, a polite thank-you note ought to be okay. She's not planning on being a hands-on deity. Assuming she still _had_ hands, of course."

"Did you know that the Wolfram and Hart offices would be destroyed?" asked Daniel.

"It could be worse," said Cordelia. "After all, most of them were lawyers."

"Did… you… know…?" he repeated angrily.

"Nope. Illyria and the Powers kept that one to themselves. But I've a feeling you'll find that a lot of people missed appointments today, and a lot of the staff were out sick."

"That's something, I guess," said Jack.

"Okay," Cordelia said briskly. "You won't be hearing from Illyria again any time soon, she's settling down for the long haul right now, unless something big gets in her face she won't have anything to do with the human race for at least the next few thousand years."

"Good to know," said Jack. "I just hope that…" He tailed off, realizing that Cordelia had vanished again, and added "I hate it when they do that."

"Don't worry," said Willow, "with Cordy on her team I really doubt that she'll ever be a problem. The guys who are gonna have to watch out are those fake gods you mentioned, that sort of thing has to be _really_ annoying if you're the real thing."

"You think so?" said Jack, and began to grin.

oOoOoOo

Several hundred light years from Earth Anubis' ha'tak was orbiting one of his vassal worlds, raining down fire upon a pitiful handful of rebels. "You will know that I am your God and you will tremble!" he shouted, though there was nobody in his throne room to hear save a few servants.

There was a strange blue light, and he paused in his rant, looking up to see a dozen swirling vortices open above him. As he stared, transfixed, the first tentacle appeared…

**End**


End file.
